


Silence is Golden

by lizandletdie



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Maid Belle, mute!belle, storybrook au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-20
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-02-18 02:19:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 29,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2331590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lizandletdie/pseuds/lizandletdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rather than condemning her to the asylum, Regina has Belle work as her maid in Storybrook.  Belle has all her memories, and no voice.  When Henry realizes who she is, he promises to help her reconnect with her lost love Rumpelstiltskin/Mr. Gold, but he has no idea who she is anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Yup so I have another fic going. Blame tinuviel-undomiel on Tumblr.
> 
> I don't PLAN on letting this one explode but I never plan on that so who knows. Fingers crossed for only five chapters.
> 
> I hate that I have to do this, but apparently I do. If you're reading this fic anywhere besides AO3, it was posted without my consent and likely profited someone else. Please consider [donating](https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_donations&business=CZNGXGNP4PRX4&lc=US&item_name=The%20Mantis%20Fund&currency_code=USD&bn=PP%2dDonationsBF%3abtn_donate_SM%2egif%3aNonHosted) or swinging by my Tumblr (standbyyourmantis) to let me know what you thought!

Nobody ever seemed to find it strange that they didn’t know her name — at least not here. Regina usually called her “you there” or some variation on that, but Henry called her Delilah. Mr. Gold didn’t find it strange that nobody knew his name, though. But Belle knew it. He was Rumpelstiltskin, and she was Lady Belle of Avonlea and they were cursed here. Sometimes, she saw Jefferson the Hatter. He knew her, at least, but he was the only one. He never said her name but she could tell from his face that he _knew_ what was wrong. She liked seeing Jefferson, just because it reminded her that she wasn’t the insane one. It was everyone else who was wrong, not Belle.

Regina helped with that, too, in her own way. She would taunt Belle sometimes with her situation — mute, no family, and entirely dependent on a woman who held her captive. Still, hearing Regina admit it made it all real somehow. The taunts had been less severe these last few years, though. Regina didn’t want to admit anything in front of Henry, but then Henry had gotten the book from Princess Snow White (but here she was Mary Margaret) and Belle could tell that he knew, too. Henry was the one good thing in Belle’s life, and taking care of him gave her a purpose. She was glad Regina had gotten him.

Rumple still didn’t know, though. He still hadn’t come for her, and he still barely looked at her.

She would seek him out sometimes if she had a free afternoon. She would visit his shop to look at jewelry and knickknacks and he always looked right through her even as she fought the urge to run to him. She had kissed him, once. It was New Years and she had found him walking out late. Feigning drunkenness, Belle had lunged for him, pressing her lips to his in a kiss. His only reaction was to push her away with a shocked expression on his face. True Love’s Kiss was supposed to break any curse, but it hadn’t worked for Belle this time. She’d found him the next day and signed an apology. Well, it was something between signing and charades, but he seemed to have understood after awhile and told her not to worry about it. He never let her that close to him again, though.

Maybe someday he would remember. Until then, though, Belle would have to content herself with watching him. She couldn’t believe Rumplestiltskin had nothing to do with all this, or that he didn’t have a contingency plan in place for this curse. Belle would wait and have faith. Henry was growing bigger every day, this couldn’t last forever.

Regina hadn't even bothered to give her a name, as far as Belle could tell. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. When Henry was four or five he'd asked Regina why Belle couldn't talk. Regina had balked, insisting that the nanny's name was most certainly _not_ Belle.

“Then what is her name?” he'd said, looking back and forth between his mother and nanny.

Regina gave Belle a long look, her jaw clenched and Belle could see the gears turning in her head.

“Delilah,” Regina finally said with a smug grin on her face. “Her name is Delilah.”

Belle looked away, she understood the reference as Regina had hoped she would. There weren't many books to be had in Storybrook (and most of the ones that Belle had access to were children's books for Henry) but Bibles were easy to come by. Delilah, the woman who caused Samson's downfall.

Still, Henry didn't understand and Belle had been happy at least to have something to tell people to call her. Well, something that Henry could tell people to call her. Regina had at least given her a knowledge of sign language, but then no one else in town could understand her when she spoke. Henry could, though. Belle had raised Henry from the time he was a baby – he had signed before he spoke, which had frustrated Regina to absolutely no end but had finally given Belle an outlet with the rest of the world. She could sign to Henry, and Henry could speak for her.

It was a brilliant system, except when it wasn't. There were some things she couldn't confide in a child, and there was no way to burden Henry with the truth of her past. After he got that book, though, Belle could tell that things were changing.

“I know who you are,” Henry said to her one day after school as she helped him with homework.

 _I would hope so_ , she teased.

“No,” he replied. “I know who you really are.”

That brought her up short.

_Who am I, then?_

“You're Belle,” he said smugly. “From Beauty & the Beast.”

_How do you know that?_

“It's in my book,” he explained, flipping it open and turning to the relevant pages. Sure enough, there she was in watercolor.

_What does the book say about me?_

“It says that you made a deal with Rumpelstiltskin to save your village from ogres, and that you went away to be his maid.”

_Is that all?_

She could feel tears stinging her eyes as she signed, but even as she'd hoped Henry might mean the end of the curse she'd never quite believed it before now.

“Was he the beast?”

Belle had a choice, now. She'd never discussed her real identity with Henry – at least not since his mother had proclaimed her Delilah – but she knew that he'd find no other ally in this town. She couldn't lie to him.

 _He wasn't a beast,_ she said finally. It felt so good to be able to discuss this openly with someone. _There were parts of him that were beastly, but he was just a man. He still is._

“He's here?” Henry seemed shocked. “I think I figured out who almost everyone is except him.”

 _He is,_ she confirmed. _But he doesn't remember._

“How come you remember?”

 _I don't know,_ she confessed. _Your mom left one of Rumple's other friends with his memories, too. I think she meant to punish us._

“Who's that?”

_Jefferson, the Mad Hatter._

“I don't know him.”

_He keeps to himself, and we almost never have time to see each other. I know he knows, though._

Henry took a moment to digest this new information, and also possibly an adult who wasn't telling him he was crazy, before continuing.

“So if Rumpelstiltskin is here, then who is he?”

Belle blinked and felt warm tears rolling down her cheeks. She hadn't even realized she was crying, and she wasn't sure if it was grief for the lost years or relief at someone who she could really talk to.

_He's Mr. Gold._

“The pawn shop owner?!” Henry nearly shrieked, and Belle had to shush him. It wouldn't do to summon Regina with his noise, after all.

 _That's him,_ she confirmed. _I tried to kiss him once to see if it would break the curse. It didn't work._

She suppressed a giggle at the memory now, and Henry smiled at her as well.

“That's great, though!” he was so ecstatic. “I'm still trying to figure out how to get to the savior so she can break the curse, but now we know who made it!”

 _School first,_ she tried to scold him but he was going a mile a minute about the savior now and there was no way to interrupt him. _You need to finish your math homework._

“I'm going to help you, Belle,” he said finally. “While I try to find the savior, I'm going to help you get him back.”

He meant it, too. Henry was a sweet child, and it wasn't his nature to lie. She wasn't going to get a moment's peace about Rumpelstiltskin until Henry had them married off happily now, she knew it.

She couldn't think of what to say, so instead she ruffled his hair and then pointed his face back to his homework. He accepted her redirection with good grace, occasionally shooting her little looks that she knew meant he thought he knew more than he was letting on.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumpelstiltskin remembers.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> spottytonguedog said:  
> Ok I got one…Gold feels like he knows what her voice sounds like, even though Regina assures him she’s always been mute.
> 
> tinuviel-undomiel said:  
> Mute Belle verse: I so want to see when Belle kissed Gold at the New Years party. Maybe in his POV.
> 
> Anonymous said:  
> Mute!Belle: what happens when Emma comes to town?

 The bell to Gold's Pawn Shop & Antiquities rang out, alerting the eponymous Mr. Gold that his shop had business. He emerged from the backroom to find the mayor's son Henry leaning expectantly on one of his glass cabinets. He'd always rather liked the boy. Henry seemed like a generally bright and friendly child, and rather well behaved. It was a bit strange seeing him alone – he was usually in the company of his nanny, or more rarely with his mother.

“Good afternoon, Henry,” he said as he came to the counter where the boy waited. “What can I do for you today?”

“I need to buy a present,” Henry replied simply.

“Ah, and what's the occasion?” who did children buy presents for? “Is it your mother's birthday?” he added as an afterthought.

“No, it's Delilah's,” Henry seemed to be searching his face for something, but Gold wasn't sure what it could be. Henry deflated a bit before continuing. “You know, my nanny Delilah.”

“Ah yes, Delilah,” so that was her name. “And what do you think Delilah would like?”

“Well, I don't know,” Henry admitted. “I know she likes to come here to look around so I was hoping you could tell me what she likes to look at.”

There was that same searching gaze again, and it set Gold a little on edge for some reason. It didn't take him as long to remember what she liked to look at as it probably should have. He noticed people in general, and Delilah in particular. The girl had kissed him once, after all, and that was hard to forget. It was New Years and he suspected she'd had one too many, at which point she stumbled into him, wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed her lips to his. He'd been too startled to register what was going on at first, but eventually he had gently pulled her arms from around him and pushed her off of him. He hadn't wanted to embarrass the poor thing – she must be hideously lonely, after all – but she'd searched his face desperately (much the same way Henry was now) before he saw her blue eyes begin to fill with tears and she'd run off. The next day she'd come to the shop, sheepishly signing and pantomiming until he realized she meant to apologize.

She still came around at least once every week or two and poked around looking at his inventory. He never spoke to her, but that was more because he couldn't understand her replies than from a lack of interest. Anyway, that didn't mean he didn't notice what she liked to look at.

“That case over there,” he finally answered Henry. “No matter what else she looks at, she always looks in that one there.”

Henry gave him a big relieved grin before bounding over to look at the case he'd indicated. It was jewelry, mostly. Simple pieces, not something a girl would want to fixate on. If she were going to fantasize about owning something in the shop, he wouldn't have thought it would be something from that case.

Henry spent a few moments staring intently into it before finally speaking.

“It's not here,” Henry sounded crestfallen and Gold came around to look into the case with him.

“What's not here?”

“Uh, I mean, I don't know what she'd want from this case,” he sounded a little confused. “Is there anything in here she particularly likes?”

“Well,” Gold said patiently, scanning from item to item. “I'm afraid I don't know, Henry.”

“If you were going to buy something for her, what would you pick?”

The request was a strange one, but something in Henry's voice begged Gold to take him seriously. He looked harder into the case. There was no one item that stood out as being particularly lovely in it, so instead he tried to call to mind the woman in question. She seemed like a cheerful girl, and she had an intelligent look about her. She dressed tastefully, though obviously didn't have a lot of money to spend on her clothes. Sometimes, though, he thought he caught a glimpse of a sadness behind the bright smiles, and in those moments he surprised himself by wanting nothing more than to wrap her up in his arms and promise her it was going to be alright.

Mr. Gold had a secret, and it was that he sometimes dreamed of her. He didn't know why, but ever since she'd kissed him he sometimes woke up thinking she would be there. She could speak in his dreams, though. He felt like she'd have an Australian accent (though he didn't know why), and a voice that was huskier than you'd expect for someone so small. He'd once caught young Henry using sign language and later had asked Regina how the maid had lost her voice (purely out of curiosity, naturally), and she had smiled an awful smile before assuring him she'd always been mute. He was sure the voice was his own creation, but he couldn't for the life of him figure out _why_.

“I think that one,” he finally answered Henry, pointing to a single pearl on a chain. “That's the one I think she'd like best.”

Henry smiled at him in relief.

“How much is it?”

“This one,” Gold opened the cabinet and took it out to check the price tag. “It's seventy-five dollars.”

“Oh,” Henry replied, crestfallen. “I only have fifty.”

Gold had a dilemma. He had a reputation to uphold, after all, but he had always been fond of Henry and knew that Delilah didn't really have anyone else in town who cared about her. Besides that, now that he had the image of her wearing the necklace in his head he was afraid he couldn't shake it – he wanted to see how it would look on her. Anyway, it wasn't like it was doing anyone any good collecting dust in a display case.

“Well,” Gold said finally. “Do you have anything you could trade, perhaps?”

Henry dug through his pockets, pulling out a pocket knife that he knew were sold at the drug store for about ten dollars, as well as a handful of change and a keyring. Nothing of any real value, though he had no reason to let Henry know that.

“It seems you're in luck,” he said as he flipped some of the quarters around. “This is a dime from 1943, most of which were melted for use as silver during World War Two, and this penny here is from 1928 so it's also very rare,” he was talking out of his ass but he was so _good_ at it. “All in all, worth about forty dollars. So for these two coins and thirty-five dollars and you can have the necklace.”

Henry eagerly made the swap, dashing out as soon as his parcel was wrapped for him. Gold couldn't help chuckling. Little boys, it seemed, were the same all over. He hoped that Delilah would like the gift, as well. Everyone deserved a bit of happiness, especially on their birthday.

 

Gold caught sight of the nanny wearing the necklace a few times around town after that. Each time she saw him, she would blush and finger the pendant lightly. He got the feeling she may have figured out his ruse to give the necklace to Henry, but it was no matter. She never approached him about it, and honestly what was the harm in her knowing? It wasn't like she was prone to gossip, after all.

There came a day not long after when word spread quickly around town that Henry had gone missing, and the town was in an uproar. Delilah even came into his shop shaking and trying to sign something he couldn't understand before giving up and bursting into tears. He saw her around town a few more times as he went about his business collecting rent that day, having similar luck with a few other people. He couldn't imagine what she must be going through. Her best friend and one method for communicating with the world was gone and she was completely isolated. Hopefully, Henry would turn up sooner rather than later. From what he understood, all signs pointed towards him running away and not being taken. Small comfort, but at least there was reason to hope.

With all the commotion (as well as being stopped an ungodly amount of times by a sobbing Delilah), it took him until rather late in the day to make his final stop of the day at the Bed & Breakfast.

“Emma,” he heard as he stepped through into the lobby. “Emma Swan.”

It felt like the wind had been knocked out of him for a second as the tall blonde at the counter said her name. Then all of a sudden he could breathe again. Everything was coming back in a flash of images, but he had to keep himself composed. This was the savior, he was Rumpelstiltskin, and he was awake.

“Emma,” he said in a strained voice. “What a lovely name.”

She looked at him but didn't really see, and the rent was ready so he collected it. He made his way out into the cold, dark night and let the chill wash over him and settle his shaking nerves.

He was Rumpelstiltskin, and he remembered, and Belle was alive.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Emma's arrival from Belle's perspective.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Faithoshauntasy said:  
> I’d like to see what happens in that verse when Henry goes to get Emma. Like what does Belle do, is she there with Regina and Graham when Emma comes back, does she try to go to Gold again to hide or something?

“I still can't believe you let him just wander off!” Regina had been screeching at her nearly nonstop since school let out, but this time Belle didn't entirely blame her. Her fingers itched to proclaim that it wasn't her fault (though she couldn't because Regina didn't really understand her signing anyway) but she understood, at least, why Regina was angry.

Henry was missing and Belle was just as frantic as Regina. She couldn't figure out what had happened. She had walked him to school, like always, and watched him walk into the building. When she returned promptly at three to collect him he was just...gone. She'd gotten more and more nervous as she saw other children being collected by parents or skipping off to the bus and still no Henry. Finally, she'd gone in and found his teacher, Ms. Blanchard. Belle didn't usually like to use notes for people, but she'd made an exception to scrawl a question about Henry's whereabouts on the chalkboard. That was when she found out that Henry had never made it to class.

She'd scoured the town – maybe he'd cut school to go to the arcade – but she couldn't find any hint of Henry. She'd been forced to confess to Regina, who'd summoned Sheriff Graham, who'd been searching since. Belle wasn't sure what to do: nothing ever changed here, nothing was ever _supposed to_ change! Henry was the only person who could, and so if he was gone it meant that he'd left on purpose. He'd left her, he was her only friend and he'd gone. Selfishly, she wished he'd taken her with him, because she couldn't blame him for wanting to leave but she didn't want to be here if he wasn't.

He'd been acting weird lately, and now she knew why. He'd been planning this, and he hadn't even told her. This was her worst nightmare. She had lost everything before, but it still hurt every time.

 

It was already after dark when Henry finally returned in the company of a blonde woman, but Belle didn't pay any attention to that. His mother hugged him and then handed him off to the sheriff while she spoke to the stranger. Belle wasn't far behind, following them closely and listening as Henry explained to the sheriff that the woman was his birth mother, that her name was Emma Swan, and that he'd run away to find her and bring her back. The sheriff nodded politely double checking that Henry was safe and whole and unharmed.

Belle doubted she was supposed to be here for this, but one thing she'd learned from the last twenty-eight years of silence was that people would forget you were there if you stayed out of their line of sight. In any event, she wouldn't have gone even if he'd told her to, wouldn't let Henry out of her sight until she had reassured herself that he was really okay.

Finally, the sheriff left and Belle glowered at Henry.

“I know,” he sighed. “I'm sorry I left. But I found her!”

 _I can see that,_ she signed, coming to sit next to him on his bed. _But you scared me to death. What would I do if something happened to you?_

“I had to go,” he said earnestly.

_Why?_

He grimaced.

 _I did it for you_ , he signed back. _For you and everyone else. She can save you, Belle._

Henry signed as fluently as he spoke, but in general he only used it when he was trying to keep a secret.

 _I'd have come with you,_ she replied. _You shouldn't have gone alone, it was dangerous._

 _It would have been more dangerous for you,_ he pointed out. _She'd have killed you if you'd helped me, and the curse won't let you leave._

_If it's too dangerous for me, it's too dangerous for you._

_I said I was sorry,_ he continued. _Can't you just be happy I found her?_

 _It's my job to worry,_ she signed back. _I don't have anyone else, Henry. You should have told me._

“If I'd told you,” he said pointedly. “You'd just have tried to stop me.”

She stuck her tongue out at him but didn't reply.

 _Go brush your teeth,_ she finally said. _We can talk about this some more tomorrow._

He nodded, getting up and lingering a moment before hugging her tight around the waist. She didn't even have to think before she hugged him back. No matter how scared she'd been, she still loved Henry more than anything else and she knew he loved her.

He released her with a grin on his face and she waited until she heard the bathroom faucet running before she went and removed his pajamas from the drawer and laid them out on the bed for him.

Henry was safe, at least. And the savior was here now, or at least the woman Henry believed was the savior. Regardless of anything else, the arrival of Emma Swan was _new_ and nothing new ever happened in Storybrooke. Regina would be on a warpath for the next few days, but Belle had a feeling the brunt of her wrath would be saved for Henry's birth mothe, who didn't seem the sort to take that lying down.

Belle just hoped that was a good sign.

 

The next few days were a blur for Belle. She still took Henry to and from school, but now Emma joined them. She tried not to feel put out as she followed behind mother and son as they whispered conspiratorially to each other, but it was easy to be bitter about it. Emma could speak, and everyone could understand her. Belle had nobody but Henry. Sometimes she'd walk alongside them, listening to their conversation and occasionally tapping Henry to ask him to translate something for Emma, but it was a tedious process and she felt herself slipping into a little bit of a depression the longer it went on.

Through it all, she began to notice Rumpelstiltskin – Mr. Gold, she would mentally correct herself – more often. Perhaps she was noticing him more, or maybe he was changing along with the town, but he seemed to be around now. Never in a strange way, and he didn't seem to notice her, he was always just _there_. She would see him working on the window display of his shop when she passed it in the morning, or he would linger at the counter at Granny's while ordering a sandwich to-go when she was there for lunch.

She had developed a habit whenever she saw him of fingering the little pendant he'd sold Henry, which never failed to make him glance away shyly. Henry had told her the whole story, and her heart soared. He might not remember, but her Rumple was bleeding through – he'd recognized the necklace at least as being the one she'd worn every day she'd spent with him. She wondered what else he remembered, and entertained idle daydreams of this Mr. Gold coming over and saying hello if the diner was full and asking if he could sit. They wouldn't speak, because he wouldn't understand her, but the silence would be comfortable. It would be a strange sort of friendship, but she could see him enjoying it.

Belle was midway through her favorite of those fantasies – the one where he noticed the book she was reading and would explain his feelings on it, letting her provide whatever input she could communicate and laughing good naturedly when she had to resort to charades to make her point – when Emma sat down unexpectedly across from her. Nobody ever sat with her, people barely acknowledged her. She'd grown used to being invisible.

“So what's your deal?” Emma blurted out.

Belle tilted her head to indicate confusion. Emma couldn't understand her.

“I mean,” she clarified, “Henry says you remember the Enchanted Forest.”

Belle glanced around them, gesturing to Emma to keep her voice down. The last thing she needed was word getting back to Regina that Belle was encouraging Henry's 'delusions.'

“Why are you encouraging him?”

Belle huffed in her frustration. What did Emma expect from her? Did she just want to keep asking questions that she had no ability to answer?

Emma reached into her pocket and produced a pen and a pad of paper, sliding them across the table.

“I know you can write, Delilah.”

Belle picked up the pen, scribbling down one word: _no._

“No you can't write?”

_I don't write notes._

“Why not? It seems like it would be the easiest way to communicate when someone doesn't understand you.”

Belle flagged down Ruby, managing to ask the waitress for a glass of water and staring at Emma blankly until it arrived.

 _Notes have a way of finding their way back to Regina._ She flashed the page to Emma, waiting for acknowledgment it had been read before ripping the page out and dropping it into the glass of water.

“You're that scared of her?” Emma sounded incredulous. “Then why don't you quit?”

_I can't quit. If I quit, who takes care of Henry? And where would I go? Nobody here remembers me._

Into the water the page went.

“No friends? Family?”

 _My father is Moe French, the florist. He doesn't know he has a daughter anymore. My only friend_ she stopped mid-sentence, scratching the last part out before showing it to Emma and depositing it in her glass with the other two.

Emma looked at her oddly, and Belle knew she was wondering how much of Henry's delusions were caused by the book and how much caused by his nanny, but she said nothing. Belle slid the pad of paper back across the table, but Emma shook her head and stood up.

“It's a gift,” she explained. “I think you should reconsider the notes.”

Belle thought for a moment before writing down two words on a sheet of paper and handing them to Emma. The other woman could keep this one, she decided. If Henry could take a risk then so could she: _I remember._


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rumpelstiltskin tries to make a good impression.

 The night Emma Swan arrived in Storybrooke, Rumpelstiltskin made two stops before returning to his empty home. The first was his pawn shop, where he retrieved the dagger which he'd been keeping displayed with a variety of other blades and had priced for about two hundred dollars (and my wasn't that a terrifyingly bad idea). The second, with the dagger tucked safely in his jacket, was the library across the street. It was boarded up – probably because Regina hated happiness, including her own – but that didn't mean it wasn't stocked. He smashed a window and let himself in after double and triple checking for witnesses. If anyone bothered to even file a police report, he was reasonably certain the entire thing would be blamed on “teenagers.”

A quick check of the mouldering card catalog led him to section 419 – sign language. Of course, Regina couldn't be content to provide anything that might be _useful_ for anyone who wanted to communicate with Belle – Delilah, he reminded himself, here she was Delilah – but even so he took the book of sign language for business and the finger spelling for children. The only other book that might possibly help was on baby signing and he was reasonably certain nothing there was going to be relevant.

On returning home and cracking open the first of the books, he suddenly became aware of how very hard this was going to be. Belle had been fluent in several languages, and magic had allowed Rumpelstiltskin mastery of whatever spoken language was required. He'd never had to learn one, and it hadn't occurred to him that signing would be so incredibly complicated. The book for business had a brief intro to deaf culture (though he was fairly sure Delilah wasn't deaf, just mute) as well as a short piece on the sign language alphabet. Rumpelstiltskin hadn't been aware that there _was_ a separate written alphabet in sign language and hoped to whatever god might be listening that Belle ( _Delilah,_ dammit!) knew the English alphabet as well – he hadn't ever seen her write notes, after all and the book was maddeningly uninformative as to the use of the ASL alphabets compared to the English one in the deaf community. It would be just like Regina to give her a language that nobody else understood and then also take away her ability to communicate in any other.

After a quick perusal of the business book left him discouraged at the sheer volume of information to acquire, he tossed it aside and picked up the one for children. This one featured basic signs (man, woman, boy, girl, dog, cat, etc.) being demonstrated by a variety of multi-colored puppets but is also had instructions for every letter used to fingerspell. He wasn't sure if he'd ever master ASL, but he was fairly certain he could at least learn the alphabet. It wasn't much, but it would be _something_ after all, and when the curse was broken and he'd restored his magic then he would be in a much better position to deal with this as well as have a better idea of what he needed to do.

Meanwhile, he had until Thursday afternoon to learn twenty-six signs. The thing about places like Storybrooke was that routines were key. Everyone kept one, and nobody quite realized it. Delilah (did she even have a last name? Her father's surname here was _French_ but did she realize that was her father?) was in the habit of visiting his shop every Thursday afternoon at some point between one and three. He suspected Regina sent her on an errand that brought her nearby on Thursdays and then she had nothing to do until she collected Henry. Given that it was Saturday night, he was a little pressed for time.

He saw her around, of course – she kept a routine and he lurked after her like a gargoyle. The problem, though, was that he couldn't quite approach her without drawing suspicion. By the time Thursday finally rolled around, Rumpelstiltskin was on pins and needles. He'd had a busy week of stalking Delilah (she seemed to spent most of her time at Regina's house but tended to get lunch at the diner once or twice a week) and generally trying to antagonize Regina as much as possible. Hopefully Delilah would keep to her schedule even as the rest of the town began to abandon theirs.

He could still scarcely believe she was alive. Regina had told him...well, never mind what Regina had told him. Regina would pay, of that he was certain. He needed her just a little bit longer – just until the Savior believed – and then she became extremely disposable. He was fairly certain Regina had no clue just exactly _how_ disposable she actually was to him now. That was her fatal flaw, really. It never occurred to her that other people might have their own agendas. Everyone was simply a pawn and she was the queen and that was that.

He had no intention of remaining a pawn for long.

It had taken all his willpower to wait for Delilah to approach him on Thursday, when all he really wanted to do was steal her away in the night and keep her safe in his home as he should have kept Belle, as a dragon kept its hoard. He jumped so hard when the little bell over his door rang out that he knocked over the antique clock he'd been winding, denting the case and very nearly shattering the face.

There was no room for annoyance, though, when he saw the pale face and wavy brown hair that he'd seen in every dream he'd had between her leaving and the curse striking. He could have drawn her from memory, except that in his memories she was bold and brave and here she was shy and sad. She glanced at him quickly, averted her eyes, and made her way silently to the few antique books he kept (and which he now recognized as having come from her library). So, she likely could read and write in English at least. That was good, it meant she wasn't entirely lost to him.

He gulped down air as he watched her. She occasionally would look over to him and glance away on noticing his attention on her. He couldn't tell if that was interest or confusion at why he was staring at her and if it was the latter he needed to make a move soon or she was going to leave.

What was it she had once said to him? _Do the brave thing and bravery will follow_. Steeling himself against her inevitable rejection, Rumpelstiltskin made his way over to the books.

“Something I can help you find?” he said as casually as possible when he was staring into the eyes of his true love and wishing to hell she remembered him.

She blinked at him once or twice, looking down at her hands and back to him.

“Oh,” he said dully. “Yes, right. Sorry.”

He wasn't entirely sure how _that_ particular detail had slipped his mind, but there they were. He needed to sign something to her and he needed to do it quickly because she looked extremely confused and he just had to make sure she stayed.

He took a deep breath and started signing.

_D-O-Y-O-U-L-I-K-E-B-O-O-K-S_

He hoped he'd done that right, and that he'd not accidentally signed something terribly offensive. She wasn't helping his nerves particularly, instead she was staring at him with her jaw hanging open. He was on the verge of backpedaling and excusing himself from this attempted conversation when her face suddenly broke out into a huge smile and she began nodding eagerly.

 _I-C-A-N-H-E-A-R_ she signed back very, very slowly.

“Oh good,” he breathed. “I'm afraid your signing is a lot better than mine.”

 _Y-O-U-W-E-R-E-D-O-I-N-G-W-E-L-L_ she signed with such an earnest expression on her face he couldn't help feel that maybe she wasn't just humoring him.

“I really wasn't,” he replied with a smile. “But that's kind of you to say.”

She didn't respond, just kept grinning happily at him.

“I noticed you always look at the books,” he changed the subject. “But you never buy one. Was there something in particular you're looking for? I may be able to acquire it.”

She blushed and glanced away.

 _N-O-J-U-S-T-L-I-K-E-T-H-E-M_ she replied slowly. He hated the embarrassment he saw in her face. It occurred to him then that Regina probably didn't pay her much at all. She likely couldn't really afford one. Oh, gods.

“Have you read any of these?” he continued as conversationally as he dared.

She nodded, pointing to the ones she was familiar with, and he knew those were ones she'd read back in his castle. He wasn't sure why these were the books that were brought with him, but he was glad at least some of them were new to her.

“Tell you what,” he said finally. “I don't do much business in old books, so if you'd like to borrow any of these you're welcome to do so.”

_A-R-E-Y-O-U-S-U-R-E_

“I hardly think you borrowing one or two of them will bankrupt me,” he replied with a wink. “Just don't tell anyone, I wouldn't want to ruin my fearsome reputation after all. This can be our little secret.”

She didn't reply, but then she didn't need to. Instead, she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him. He wasn't sure he'd ever quite adjust to her hugging him, though at least this time he was able to recall himself enough to wrap his arms around her as well. He indulged himself in hugging her as long as she'd allow it, breathing in her scent and wishing he could take her home with him now. He shouldn't have offered to lend her the books, but he didn't think there was any love lost between her and Regina and even so...the idea of Belle being without books was intolerable. He could take this risk if it meant that she could have even a little bit of her old self back.

 _T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U_ she signed after she finally pulled away from him. _A-N-Y-B-O-O-K?_

He smiled and nodded, leaning against a wall as she took her time examining the spines of each book, running her fingers across the leather and gilt edging of them. He would save her, he vowed. He'd done nothing but wrong by her in the old world, but this was a fresh start. He could be good for her this time, and as she exited his shop a half hour later carrying a beautiful book of chivalric tales and leaving behind a promise to return on Thursday to swap it out for a new one he was left with the unmistakable realization that he'd made a date to see her again. Maybe this time he could be better.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymousnerdgirl said:  
> SiG prompt: Belle knows Regina's weekly meeting is her excuse to have sex with Graham who is really the Huntsman and not a willing participant. To distract herself Belle visits Mr. Gold's shop.
> 
> anonymousnerdgirl said:  
> SiG prompt: Belle has a close up view of Rumplestiltskin and Regina's encounter in The Thing You Love most. Belle suspect he remembers or is at least waking up and she is turned on by the apple toss.

 Belle had hoped that her Rumple was waking up after Emma arrived. Admittedly, she'd had only the vaguest of reasons for that hope but it had still been there, foolishly rekindled as she knelt in the grass in the backyard collecting fallen apples and branches from the savior's earlier chainsaw attack on Regina's prized tree. Regina, surprisingly, was doing a bit of the manual labor herself. She was certainly complaining about Belle's lack of enthusiasm for the task at hand, but she was at least pruning the tree herself and had helped with collecting the larger branches.

As the women worked, Mr. Gold appeared. Belle saw him slightly before Regina, though she couldn't be sure if it was because he approached from the side garden that she had been facing towards, or because she was just prone to noticing him whenever he was around – he always drew her eye and he always had since the first day he'd appeared in her father's throne room.

“What a mess,” he said into the quiet night.

Belle saw the surprise on Regina's face at his appearance, but all trace of it was gone before she turned towards Mr. Gold.

“Not for long,” she replied with a shark-like smile firmly in place. “What can I do for you, Mr. Gold?”

“Oh I was just in the neighborhood,” he replied too casually. “Thought I'd pop by. Lovely to see you in such high spirits.”

“Well, it's been a good day,” Regina said. Gods, Belle hated how smug she sounded. “I just rid the town of an unwanted nuisance.”

“Emma Swan?”

“Yes, I imagine she's halfway to Boston by now.”

“I wouldn't bet on that,” he replied coolly. “I just saw her strolling down the Main street with your boy. Thick as thieves, they looked.”

“What?” Regina snarled, glaring at Belle for the first time in this conversation. Belle merely shrugged. If she was supposed to help with the apples, how was she supposed to keep an eye on Henry at the same time?

“Perhaps you should have come to me?” he replied, his voice faltering slightly as he followed Regina's gaze to look at Belle for a split second before returning his attention to Regina. “Miss Swan is a problem you can't fix, I'm only too happy to help...for a price.”

Belle had a hard time focusing on the rest of the conversation as they circled each other like rival tomcats and made vague threats towards each other. They did this on occasion, she knew, though rarely with her in attendance. Regina didn't like Belle being around him and he had no reason to seek her out. He'd never so much as spared her a glance in Regina's presence before, either. She darted her eyes back and forth between them as they traded veiled barbs about Emma's presence.

Belle was a little on edge, her hands fisting the fabric of her skirt. It always made her uneasy when they did this. She knew that Regina would halfway blame her for it, but more than that she was never sure what Mr. Gold intended by doing this. Still, though, it was nice to see someone causing Regina grief, no matter how bitter that thought was. She just wished her position wasn't so very vulnerable and that it didn't depend so very much on Regina's continued good mood.

“I really must be going,” he finally said as he turned to leave. Belle recognized the smile on his face, he was happy about how far he'd pushed Regina.

“Tell me what you know!” she demanded, stepping around to block his path.

“I'm not going to answer you, dear,” he said almost too low for Belle to hear. “So I suggest you excuse me. Please.”

Regina's face went through the most remarkable series of expressions ranging from anger, to terror, to confusion. Belle was confused, but even had she been able to speak she'd have been smart enough not to interrupt this...whatever it was. Gold took a bite of an apple he'd picked up when he arrived and stepped around Regina.

“Good evening, Miss,” he said with a strange half smile to Belle that caused her to bite her lip and glance down shyly at the basket in her lap. She'd never stopped harboring a little crush on Mr. Gold, even when he wasn't Rumpelstiltskin. It was surprising how handsome he could be, though she suspected both men would have argued with her assessment.

He swaggered away even with his limp, leaving Regina staring at him in disbelief as he tossed the apple aside. It seemed to take the queen a little while to remember Belle was even there, glowering at her angrily.

“Oh, get back to work,” Regina snarled as she stomped into the house leaving Belle to finish clearing the lawn, which actually went faster without Regina standing over her.

Her Rumpelstiltskin was coming for her.

 

As the weeks ticked by and he gave no other sign of remembering her, Belle's excitement gradually cooled. By the time he admitted to understanding her fingerspelling, she was sure that Gold was attracted to Delilah but wasn't convinced enough that Rumpelstiltskin remembered Belle to risk confiding in him. Gold and Regina were adversaries, but he would think she had lost her mind if she confessed to being a fairy tale character he'd kept in a dungeon, after all.

She did begin spending more time with him in his shop as Henry began spending more time with Emma, though. It was a bittersweet arrangement. She was happy that Henry had finally found his birth mother – and relieved that Emma had accepted him – and the fact that Mr. Gold wanted her around was beyond anything she'd dared to dream of for the last twenty-odd years, but she missed Henry's company, too. She had raised him like her own child, and he bore more of her personality than either of his mothers', and she missed him being hers. Saturdays were especially hard.

Saturday was when Regina had her “city council meetings” – a meeting for which she would carefully apply a smokey eye, deep red lipstick, and wear a slinky dress. Henry hadn't figured it out yet (and Belle wouldn't tell him unless he asked, she wouldn't steal this piece of innocence from him), but Belle had lived in Regina's castle. She had met the Huntsman – who now went by Sheriff Graham Hubert – and she knew what Regina had done to him in their world, and what she was still doing to him in this one. There were some things that Belle could never forgive Regina for, and these Saturday morning appointments were among them.

Belle had been used to movies with Henry on Saturdays, followed by ice cream sundaes and a walk around town. But now, Henry was spending any available time with Emma and Belle was definitely a third wheel with them. The only thing worse than being replaced was trying to pretend like the competition didn't bother her (it really did).

She had tried spending her afternoon at home alone (she had her books now, after all) but rapidly became restless and lonesome. There was nothing for it, she'd already finished one of the two books Mr. Gold had lent her, she would just have to go back and swap it out.

If nothing else, there weren't many things more enjoyable to her than waiting to see little pieces of Rumple bleeding through the Mr. Gold. He was shockingly attentive to her lately in private. In public, he still ignored her the same way he did everyone else (which suited Belle just fine, the last thing she needed was Regina catching wind of what was happening under her nose), but in the shop it was almost like old times.

She had to force herself not to smile too hard at the tinkling of the little bell over the door, or the slightly dumbfounded smile that she saw flash across his face as he walked from the back room and saw her face.

“Ah, Delilah,” he said a little breathlessly. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

 _H-E-N-R-Y-O-U-T-W-I-T-H-E-M-M-A_ , she signed slowly.

He nodded politely.

“I take it the mayor is less than good company?”

She made a face at him.

 _R-E-G-I-N-A-H-A-V-I-N-G-A-F-F-A-I-R-W-I-T-H-S-H-E-R-I-F-F,_ she added. She liked the way he moved his lips as he sounded out her letters and attempted to make sense of her words before his eyes lit up with comprehension.

“I see,” he said darkly. “And you disapprove?”

She nodded, but didn't elaborate as she came up and perched on the counter. He seemed a little taken aback, but not in a bad way. Shocked, maybe, at her boldness, but not unhappy. He stared at her for a moment with a little half-smile on her face that she recognized from their time living together.

 _I-D-O-N-T-W-A-N-T-T-O-T-A-L-K-A-B-O-U-T-T-H-A-T_ she finally signed to him.

“Then what would you like to talk about?”

 _I-T-H-O-U-G-H-T-I-D-T-E-A-C-H-Y-O-U-S-O-M-E-S-I-G-N-S_ , she spelled before a thought occurred to her. _I-F-Y-O-U-W-A-N-T._

“Well,” he said with a smile that was bordering on happy. “It would probably be silly to turn down a language lesson from a native speaker. Do your worse, dear.”

Yes, this was definitely a good way to spend a Saturday. Much better than moping around the house or tagging along with Henry and Emma, anyway. Having someone be so happy to spend time with her was such a novel experience she almost wanted to cry. He would wake up soon, she knew, but until then this was almost good enough.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymousnerdgirl said:  
> SiG prompt: Rumplestiltskin witnesses Regina berate Belle when Henry gets stuck in the mine shaft.
> 
> So I was pretty excited to get this chapter up, that's my only excuse.

Belle was waiting for Henry to finish his session with Dr. Hopper when the floor started shaking. She had exchanged horrified glances with the receptionist – an older lady who was very good with the children – before realizing that the building itself wasn't shaking, it was the outside. If Belle had known then where the day would lead, she'd have wrapped Henry up in her coat, forced him home, and locked both of them inside where it was safe. Instead, she was now standing outside a mineshaft while her entire world came crumbling down.

Belle wasn't sure she'd ever quite understand how easily Regina could slip from terror to rage. She'd been the one to blackmail Henry's psychiatrist, and as a direct result Henry and Dr. Hopper were trapped in a mineshaft. It was Regina's fault, and Belle knew it. Regina knew it too, which was why the only break she'd taken from screaming at Belle since they arrived was to start screaming at Emma Swan.

“I just can't believe you weren't watching him!” Regina was hissing angrily at Belle.

Belle scowled at Regina, but didn't want to distract herself from her nervous vigil, as though her intense focus on the caved in tunnel and the mine workers could keep everything from going badly.

“Leave her alone,” Emma challenged Regina. “If Henry was that determined to sneak out he was going to get out no matter who was watching him.”

“Don't tell me how to speak to my help,” Regina turned on Emma again, leaving Belle alone again.

“If only there was some way to punch down through the ground,” Regina was saying to Emma. They had stopped arguing for a moment, and Belle was now focused intently on their conversation.

“What do you mean?” Emma said.

Yes, good question, Emma, Belle thought to herself. Because there was no way Regina meant what it sounded like she was saying.

And then Marco was there, and he was saying something about dynamite and Regina and Emma were agreeing with him and suddenly all Belle could hear was the blood rushing in her ears.

They couldn't be serious. They could not actually be serious. They were going to detonate a bomb over a mineshaft immediately after an earthquake. Had everyone in this town lost their damned minds? Belle was frantic, but nobody was paying any attention to her. And frankly, why would they? They couldn't understand anything she said even as she tried to sign. Henry was trapped, and she couldn't save him because the only one who could have understood her was Henry. It was enough to make her want to tear her hair out. But no, Mr. Gold could understand her. At least a little bit. He wasn't here, but she could go get him. The town wasn't so large that she couldn't make it if she rushed. He would help her, he had to help her.

Belle took off towards the center of town as fast as she could. She didn't drive, but he did and if she hurried there was a chance she could get him back to the mine before they did anything irreparably stupid.

It felt like forever when she finally burst through the door to the pawnshop. He came out of the backroom like he always did with the same smile on his face which quickly evaporated when, rather than coming to perch on his counter, she grabbed his hand and started trying to pull him outside.

“Delilah,” he exclaimed, pulling her to face him. “What's wrong?”

 _Mineshaft,_ she signed. _Explosion, Henry...come quick._

“I'm sorry,” he said, shaking his head in confusion. “Something about...Henry? Delilah, I can't understand you when you sign so fast.”

She was shaking but forced herself to take a deep breath. Of course he didn't understand her. Why on Earth would he know the words _explosion_ or _mineshaft_? He only knew the words she'd shown him and those hadn't gone much beyond listing things in the shop.

 _M-I-N-E-S-H-A-F-T_ , she spelled out as slowly as she could. _H-E-N-R-Y-T-R-A-P-P-E-D._

“Henry is trapped in a mineshaft?” He sounded incredulous but she just nodded.

 _R-E-G-I-N-A-S-E-T-T-I-N-G-B-O-M-B,_ she paused to make sure he understood her before continuing. _D-O-N-T-L-E-T-H-E-R-K-I-L-L-H-I-M._

She was begging, but she didn't care. She needed him if she was going to save Henry.

“She won't kill Henry,” he said calmly.

How could he be so calm when Henry was in danger?

 _Y-O-U-D-O-N-T-K-N-O-W-W-H-A-T-S-H-E-S-C-A-P-A-B-L-E-O-F_ , Belle insisted.

“I know better than you,” he said in what she was sure he thought was a comforting manner. “Despite all appearances, the mayor does love him.”

_I-L-O-V-E-H-I-M-T-O-O._

She thought he flinched at that but he didn't make any movements towards the door and Belle had a horrible sinking feeling that he wouldn't.

 _C-O-M-E-W-I-T-H-M-E,_ she signed. _P-L-E-A-S-E._

He looked almost regretful, but stood strong even as Belle grabbed his arms and pulled him, leaning away to try to pull him.

 _I-N-E-E-D-Y-O-U_ , she signed desperately, her last ditch attempt to force him to come with her. Finally, he exhaled and acceded to her demands that he follow her outside. It was a tense ride in the Cadillac to the mineshaft, but she was just so relieved he'd agreed to come with her she refused to think about anything else. Mr. Gold would help her, he had to.

When they finally pulled up next to the mine, she saw people still milling about and knew it wasn't too late.

“Delilah,” he sighed her fake name as the car rolled to a stop. “I need you to listen to me, sweetheart, I can't help you with this.”

 _W-H-Y-N-O-T?_ She demanded.

“Because this,” he gestured between them, “with us. It needs to be a secret.”

There wasn't anything between them, and she signed that to him.

“I don't mean like that,” he replied, sounding almost affronted. “But you can't honestly tell me the mayor would approve of you spending your time with me.”

_S-O?_

“So this is something that Miss Swan needs to do by herself.”

_S-H-E-A-G-R-E-E-D!_

Belle was horrified that he trusted Emma, a relative stranger, to protect Henry over Delilah who had raised the child from infancy.

“I wish I could explain it to you,” he replied. “But you're going to have to trust me.”

Trust him? Why would she trust him when he was refusing the same to her. He was robbing her of her voice in this matter. He was making her powerless. Regina had stolen her ability to speak, but he was rendering her voiceless. She felt tears beginning to well up in her eyes and as she tried to blink them away they spilled out down her cheeks.

He looked like he might reach for her then, and she lurched backwards, slamming into the car door. She couldn't let him touch her, because she might let him comfort her, and she didn't want his comfort – not when he was willing to do this to her. Instead, she slapped him across the face. He looked almost as startled as she felt. She'd never hit anyone before in her life, but he couldn't understand her and fingerspelling was beyond frustrating – it was her only way to communicate what she was feeling. She loved him, but in that moment she hated him so much she wasn't sure she'd ever want to see him again.

Belle groped for the door handle, pulling it and clambering out into the cool air. She heard him getting out of the car, and following her as she dashed over to the clearing where the workers stood. The bombs were set, then. An idea struck her. She could run out into the blast area. They'd not detonate with her standing there. It would give Henry and Archie some more time. It was dangerous, but she would do it.

 _Do the brave thing..._ she reminded herself, bracing to run before she felt a pair of strong hands grab her arms. Mr. Gold had come up behind her and grabbed her even as she prepared to dash out there. She had stopped feeling the urge to speak a long time ago, had become accustomed to her own silence, but in that moment she wanted to scream and rage and make horrible feral noises. Instead, she just struggled and dropped her legs out from under her, forcing him to bear her weight.

“Delilah, sweetheart,” he was whispering into her hair to keep them from drawing more attention than she already was. “Stop, please. This isn't the way. Let me explain.”

She tossed her head from side to side, blocking out his words. She didn't want to hear whatever it was he wanted to tell her. She didn't want anything from him.

Whatever he meant to say was interrupted by the _boom_ of the detonation, and Belle collapsed to the ground, shaking with silent sobs.

“ _You!_ ” Regina growled, stalking over to where Belle sat on the ground and Mr. Gold stood over her. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

Belle wasn't sure whether Regina was talking to her or Mr. Gold, but he answered anyway.

“Your maid was running around town,” he said coolly. “She seemed to feel that setting off a bomb over a sinkhole was a bad idea. I can't say I disagree.”

“I don't see how it's any of _your_ business,” Regina hissed to Gold before turning her attention on Belle. “I don't need a hysterical nanny! Get up.”

Belle couldn't, though. She was too emotional.

“Oh, for goodness sake,” Regina said. “You are the most useless maid I think I've ever seen.”

“I think the girl is a little the worse for wear,” Gold said evenly. “Maybe you should give her a moment. Please.”

Regina glared at him, but turned around and walked back to the sheriff stiffly. Emma seemed agitated, but Belle couldn't hear what she was saying as she lead Archie's dog Pongo around the area. There was still hope, she just couldn't go back there and listen to them making more plans that she wouldn't be included in. Mr. Gold didn't try to touch her again, he just lurked like a gargoyle behind her, keeping anyone from disturbing her as a winch was brought out and Emma lowered down a shaft.

It seemed like a lifetime later that all three emerged safely, and by then Belle had managed to gather herself enough to rejoin Regina and Graham so that when Henry was on solid ground, he was shuffled into her arms to be taken home.

She didn't even notice the strange look that Mr. Gold shared with Regina when everything was finally over, or even notice when the man left. He wasn't her first concern, though. She wasn't sure she could forgive him for this – or even that she wanted to just yet. She had trusted him, and he had betrayed that trust. How could she forgive him for taking her voice?

 


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Heart is a Lonely Huntsman

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Based on a prompt by Anonymousnergirl. This one is gonna hurt.

 When the doorbell rang, Belle dashed to answer it. It was probably the mailman with a package, but she still didn't like to let Henry go to the door by himself – there was no telling what kind of person might be coming to Regina's door and he was still a child. It was surprising to see the sheriff there, but not overly alarming. He flashed her a warm smile before speaking.

“Hello, Delilah,” he said. “Is Henry here?”

She nodded, holding a finger up to indicate that it would be a minute before going to fetch Henry who was reading his book (as he'd been doing near constantly lately). She knocked on the door to get his attention and he looked up at her curiously.

 _The sheriff is here,_ she signed. _He wants to see you._

He nodded, hopping down off his bed and making his way to the front door. Belle followed close behind him. She wasn't sure _why_ the sheriff was visiting, but she knew that in Regina's absence Henry was her responsibility, and whatever was going on she would be there for.

“Hey, Henry,” he said as soon as the boy opened the door.

“My mom's not here,” Henry said, sounding confused.

“Actually, I'm here to see you,” he admitted. “I was hoping you could help me.”

“Help you with what?”

Belle stood right behind Henry, and saw Graham's eyes flick over to her quickly.

“It's about your book,” he said in a whisper, glancing back at Belle as though he were unsure of her. “Am I in it?”

Belle felt her blood run cold. She'd been waiting for something like this to happen, she realized. It hadn't occurred to her that Graham would be the one to come (she'd hoped it would be Rumple) but she had been ready for _someone_ to come to Henry. Their little world was about to break open even further.

Henry nodded excitedly, his face splitting open into a grin as he invited Graham inside – someone new believed in him, after all. Belle wished she could be happy as well, but she couldn't. She, unlike Henry, knew Graham from their world where he had been the Huntsman. He had been one of her jailers in Regina's dungeon, and her occasional companion. He would tell her of his travels and she would tell him about her family and her time with Rumpelstiltskin – even after Regina took her voice, he would come and sit with her try to comfort her. Of all the people in this town, he was the one she most wanted to save and the only one she was sure she couldn't. Regina would not let Graham leave her, and Belle feared for what would happen to him if he tried.

She followed them into Henry's room, watching as they sat on the edge of his bed and began flipping through the book. Graham was having flashes of his past life. It was only a matter of time now before everyone else remembered, wasn't it?

“When did your flashes begin?” Henry asked as he turned pages.

“Uh,” Graham blushed a little bit and averted his eyes. “Right after I kissed Emma.”

“You kissed my mom?” Henry sounded scandalized in that way children do when they have information about adult goings on that they were secretly pleased to be included in. “What did you see?”

“A wolf,” Graham said slowly. “I saw that I had a knife in my hand and I was about to hurt Mary Margaret.”

“Were you about to hurt her?”

“Yes!” Graham exclaimed. “How did you know that?”

“Because Mary Margaret is Snow White,” Henry said matter-of-factly, flipping open to a certain story. “Which makes you the Huntsman.”

“So you think I really could be another person.”

Belle felt her stomach drop to the floor. She should have expected this to happen. Henry had never asked her if she knew Graham in the old world and she'd never given him a reason to ask. If she could have spared anyone the truth of their old lives, it would have been the Huntsman. Maybe it was wrong of her to hide this, but Belle had learned the hard way that not all knowledge was good – she would have given nearly anything for the blissful ignorance of a cursed persona. He deserved better than this.

Graham and Henry were still talking about Emma and how Regina stole his heart and the vault that was apparently hidden in the cemetery. She'd never seen Graham so excited, even when he was...even before. He had hope, now, and it was killing Belle that she couldn't hope with him.

“Belle remembers, too,” Henry said, snapping her right out of her misery.

 _Henry..._ she warned.

“It's true, though!” he argued with her.

“Belle...Delilah?” Graham was looking between them now.

“Delilah is her curse name,” Henry explained. “But she doesn't have the memories to go with it. She's Belle, like from Beauty & the Beast.”

“You're the beauty?” Graham said with a smile, and Belle simply nodded in reply. “How did you end up here?”

She shrugged and gestured to her throat and then to the house, hoping that was enough explanation.

“My mom held her prisoner,” Henry answered. “And took her voice.”

“Why?”

Henry looked at Belle, who looked right back at him. He wouldn't give away her secret without permission, at least, but at last she sighed and nodded.

“Because she fell in love with someone,” Henry supplied. “And my mom needed her to use against him.”

“Ah,” Graham looked back to Belle. “Your beast?”

 _He wasn't a beast,_ she corrected and Henry translated. _He could be_ beastly, _but he was just a man. An ordinary man._

“Anyone I know?”

Henry glanced back to Belle, who gave her consent again.

“Mr. Gold,” Henry said. “But he used to be Rumpelstiltskin, in the old world.”

“I just saw Mr. Gold,” Graham replied. “He was in the woods with a shovel and acting strange.”

_Strange how?_

“I don't know,” Graham said after Henry had provided her translation. “Just...off. He said something about dreams being memories of a past life.”

Why was Gold in the woods? That made absolutely no sense, and neither did what he as saying, unless – what was it he had told her the day Henry was trapped in the mine? That Henry would be alright, that it was something Emma needed to handle by herself, that he had to keep her a secret...

She could feel the shocked look on her face, and Henry and Graham had both noticed it.

“Belle?” Graham said. “Is there something I should know?”

She shook her head no, she had nothing more than a hunch at this point and anyway she was still mad at him over the mineshaft – even more angry now than she had been, knowing that he may have been Rumpelstiltskin all along and still did that to her. But being angry at him and hating him were two different things, and she would forgive him eventually. She wouldn't reveal him, if he was trying to hide this he had a reason to do so.

“I should be going,” Graham finally said. “I need to find that vault, I need to get my heart back.”

That snapped Belle out of her reverie more than anything else he could have said.

 _Don't go,_ she signed. _Please, it's not safe._

“What do you mean?” Graham asked after Henry finished his translation.

 _We knew each other,_ she explained. _In the queen's palace. I was her prisoner, but you were, too. Please, I know what she did to you. You're not safe here, you need to be patient._

“I can't be patient,” he insisted. “You know what she did to me but I don't. I have to know.”

 _Maybe it's better if you don't,_ she replied, though she scarcely believed that herself. _There are some things you can't forget._

“That just makes me _need_ to know,” he said gently. He was always gentle, it was why she'd always liked him. “I can't continue like this, Belle. I have to feel _something._ ”

She set her lips in a firm line, but nodded her agreement.

 _Please be careful,_ she replied. _We were friends, there. I'd like us to be again._

“We'll always be friends,” he said with a smile and thanked them both.

Henry walked him to the door, but Belle didn't have the heart to watch him go. Something told her that this was the last time she would ever see the man who had been her friend alive again. She stayed in Henry's room until the boy returned.

“He's going to be okay,” Henry promised. “Emma can go with him. It'll be okay.”

 _You don't know that,_ she reminded him. _No one can know that._

“Rumpelstiltskin could,” Henry replied. “We could ask him.”

 _Rumpelstiltskin's powers of foresight are vastly overestimated,_ she signed in a huff. _He missed seeing a lot of important things and misunderstood what he did see._

“Did he tell you that?”

 _He never told me much,_ though he had told her a little. _But a lot of it is in your book, too. If you read between the lines._

“Either way,” Henry came to sit down next to her and leaned into her side so she'd put her arm around him. “The curse is breaking, Belle. You'll be together soon. I'll help you.”

She couldn't answer, not with her arm on his shoulders, but she knew he'd help if she asked. She didn't dare ask, though. This she had to do by herself, or the gesture would be meaningless.

 

Regina came home late that night. Belle had stayed up, that horrible sense of dread becoming overwhelming the longer she'd waited. She didn't greet the other woman, but Regina wouldn't care. She'd been crying, and seemed shaken, but she would never explain the reason to Belle. She didn't have to, though. Belle knew the moment she laid eyes on Regina what had happened. Graham was dead, and no one would ever pay for it.

Belle bit her lip and blinked back tears as she began a silent retreat to the stairs. She couldn't be caught crying over a man she wasn't supposed to know was dead yet.

“Stay,” Regina said, though she'd given no indication she'd even noticed Belle. There was no sense of victory in her voice, no gloating tone – just a sad sort of emptiness that Belle could relate to. “I don't feel like drinking alone tonight.”

Belle came warily into the room where Regina had poured them both a glass of scotch, holding one in her hand and setting Belle's on the sideboard.

Neither woman spoke, but this was the closest she'd been to Regina in the thirty years they had known each other. Belle took slow sips of her drink, savoring the burn in her throat as a distraction from the way her heart felt like it was breaking. She should cling to that feeling, she knew. Graham had died to be able to feel that sort of pain again and here Belle was trying to numb it in liquor.

She watched Regina, too. Regina drew no joy from this. Belle had no doubt in her mind that Regina had done something terrible to him, and she knew from first hand experience that she'd been doing horrible things all along, but this was the first time it occurred to her that, in her own way, the Evil Queen might have cared for the Huntsman.

This place was not safe for any of them, but now she began to wonder what had made Regina into this person who would destroy someone just because she couldn't have him. She still hated her, but maybe she was beginning to understand her, as well and that terrified her more than this lifetime she'd spent with Regina ever had.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Because you've all been wanting more Belle x Henry BROTP.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tinuviel-undomiel said:  
> Mute Belle verse: Gold isn't sure if Belle remembers, but he wants to be close to her so he starts following her on her errands. Bonus if he saves her from the attentions of Keith.

 As if he didn't have enough to do, Rumpelstiltskin had begun stalking Delilah. She hadn't been by to see him since the damn mineshaft explosion and he'd even found the books he'd lent her wrapped nicely in paper and left on his front porch one morning. It was hard to believe that she really wasn't coming back, and every time he heard the little bell on his door ring out he found himself even more snappish than usual when he was inevitably disappointed. If Belle had chosen to reject him, he liked to think he'd have accepted that and left her alone, but to have Delilah decide she hated him...he at least needed Belle to give him a chance. He needed a chance to explain things, to apologize, and to throw himself at her feet and beg for forgiveness. He _needed_ that.

So, hours after being outed for having set a fire with the intention of killing Regina, he was following her maid around town from a discrete distance. It was a good thing the new sheriff wasn't around at the moment because he wasn't sure he could talk his way out of this one.

Delilah had been sent out on some errand or another that took her to a rather seedy side of town at a fairly late hour – or maybe it just felt late because everyone was out waiting for the results of the election, leaving the streets on this side of town fairly deserted. She seemed nervous, wrapping her arms around herself and keeping her head down as she walked fast (almost too fast for him to keep her in sight) through the streets. She was glancing around her as well, clearly not belonging here.

“Hey, pretty lady,” he heard someone call out from a side street.

Delilah increased her speed at the voice, but it didn't help. A tall man had stumbled out into the road from a side street and was keeping pace with her. She was walking as fast as she could go without breaking into a run, but he was having an easy time keeping pace with her due to his height advantage.

“Slow down, baby,” the stranger said with a jovial tone that Rumpelstiltskin recognized as being from a drunk. “Where are you going in such a hurry?”

It was that Sheriff from Sherwood Forest, he realized belatedly. The one who had wanted to trade a night with Belle for the location of Robin Hood. He choked down his initial reaction (beating the man unconscious with his cane) and instead lurked a little closer. Mr. Gold shouldn't care about some lumbering jackass chasing down a girl, and he had to be Mr. Gold until he couldn't be him anymore.

“Not gonna answer me?” Nottingham said with a smile. “What, are you stuck up or something?”

The man was clearly drunk, and Rumpelstiltskin's fingers itched with the memory of the magic he should have used on him back then. If anything happened to her, there was no way he could forgive himself for letting the bastard live.

Delilah's body language screamed _hunted_ – she wasn't running yet, but she was watching her surroundings intensely and was moving on the balls of her feet. She couldn't shout for help, and had absolutely no chance should Nottingham decide to attack her. She was so small, and he was struck by a need to protect her stronger than any he'd ever felt.

“Too good for me?” Nottingham slurred, reaching out to grab her arm and hold her still. “Come on, baby, smile.”

Rumpelstiltskin didn't have a plan as he strode towards the pair of them as fast as he could, he just knew that a man was touching Belle against her will and that was something that could not be allowed to continue.

He'd always taken a dim view of men who forced themselves on women, and the fact that this was _Belle_ (or as close to Belle as he could get here) only spurred him on. Nottingham was still saying something or another to her, and her eyes were wide with terror as Rumpelstiltskin arrived on the scene. The way Nottingham flinched a little at his arrival told him that being Mr. Gold was the way to approach this situation, he wielded a different kind of power here, after all.

“Am I interrupting something?” he said as calmly as he could muster when there was a man holding Belle's arm like that.

Nottingham released Delilah instantly, stepping back and raising his hands.

“Nah, man,” he replied. “Just a friendly conversation.”

“Indeed?” Rumpelstiltskin-as-Gold added, glancing over towards Delilah. “Are you alright, dearie?”

Delilah nodded, and he could see the tension in her face and hands and the pounding of her pulse in her neck. She looked like a doe that had heard something in the distance and was trying to decide if it should sprint.

“I was just asking her a question,” Nottingham said lamely. “That's all. There's no law against that.”

“Perhaps you should move along,” Rumpelstiltskin replied with a snarl. “The lady hasn't been in much of a talking mood the last few years.”

Whatever else he was in this world, Nottingham wasn't eager to pick a fight – or at least not eager to pick a fight with someone who may actually pose a challenge to him. He backed away a few feet before turning and stumbling off in search of some other poor soul to harass. Rumpelstiltskin exhaled in relief. Truthfully, he wasn't sure he could have done much against the man had he really been determined to press the issue.

He was about to ask Delilah how she was doing when he felt her body slam into his a little harder than he thought she meant to as she slipped her arms around him and pressed her face into his chest. She was crying, he realized. She must have been terrified to be seeking comfort in his arms, but if she was willing to give him this then he would be willing to take it.

He wrapped his arms around her tight, holding her as she shook like a leaf.

“Shhh, darling,” he whispered into her ear, giving her whatever strength he had. “It's alright, he's gone now. It'll be alright.”

She nodded and pulled away from him a little bit, unwrapping her hands from around his back.

 _S-T-I-L-L-M-A-D,_ she signed. _B-U-T-T-H-A-N-K-Y-O-U._

She returned to her hug then, arms sliding under his jacket as she practically burrowed into him. She was still angry, and he had suspected that all along, but this was the first moment it occurred to him that she might be willing to forgive him for it before the curse lifted.

 

The longer she thought on it, the more Belle was beginning to suspect that Mr. Gold had woken up and was her Rumple again. After coming to her rescue, he'd walked with her to deliver the envelope Regina had asked her to take to the Daily Mirror offices, and then walked her home (well, most of the way home – he'd stopped about three houses down, but she'd felt his eyes on her even as she walked through the front door). The whole thing was impossibly romantic, and Belle had come dangerously close to trying her kiss again to see what he'd do. She had to constantly remind herself that she was still supposed to be angry with him for risking Henry's life or she probably would have.

The fact that she had to remind herself to be mad at him meant it was just a matter of time before she returned to the shop to see him, and the fact he'd been apparently following her meant there were no hard feelings on his part. She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about him stalking her, but she had to admit that it had saved her life tonight.

By the time she got back to her room, she wasn't really surprised to find Henry waiting for her.

“Did you hear the news?” he gushed happily, bouncing where he sat on her bed.

She shook her head and he continued.

“My mom won the election!”

 _That's good,_ she signed. _That's very good._

“Things are going to get better now!”

_I'm sure they will._

Henry stopped talking for a minute and was staring intensely at Belle.

 _Are you okay?_ He signed to her.

 _Yeah,_ she replied. _I'm fine. I saw Mr. Gold again._

_What did he say?_

_He didn't say anything,_ she explained, picking up her hairbrush just to have something to do. _He saved me, though. A_ _man tried to attack me and he saved me._

 _That's great!_ Henry signed back, becoming less excited at Belle's glare. _I mean it's great that he saved you, not that you were attacked._

 _I'm fine, by the way,_ Belle added, sticking her tongue out. _But I'm very thankful he was there._

“Are you still mad at him?” Henry said out loud this time.

Belle sighed, coming to sit with Henry on the bed.

 _He and I have a complicated relationship,_ she said. _But I'm not still mad. Not really, anyway._

“He loves you,” he pointed out. “Or else he wouldn't care that you were mad.”

_I know he loves me, but he still risked your life for no good reason._

“I was okay though,” Henry said. “Archie was with me, and Emma wouldn't have let anything bad happen to me.”

They'd had this discussion quite a few times since the mineshaft incident, and Belle didn't really want to go through it again.

_Be that as it may, he_ _wouldn't help me speak_ _._

“I still think you should forgive him,” Henry's entire demeanor was a lot more serious now than it had been before. “I don't know if you'll be safe here forever, Belle. And I'd feel better if you could leave.”

Henry hadn't given voice to that fear yet, but Belle wasn't entirely surprised that the sweet little boy would fear for her. He was such a brave child, but there was no way she could leave him alone with Regina – not knowing what she did about the queen's methods.

 _I'm not leaving you,_ Belle insisted. _As long as you're here, I'll be here._

“I think you should go back to him,” Henry replied anyway. “You know he'll protect you from my mom. He's the only one who can.”

_The only way I'm going back to Rumpelstiltskin is because you're safe with Emma and the Queen is defeated._

_You can't protect me, Belle,_ Henry signed to her. _Only Emma can. I want you to be safe, too. My mom won't hurt me._

Belle couldn't agree with his assessment of what Regina would and wouldn't do, especially after what had happened to poor Graham, but she didn't want to scare him, either. As long as Henry was there, Belle would be there too. She had nothing left but Henry and the hope of Rumpelstiltskin, and only one of those two was dependent on her.

Belle had always wanted to be brave, always wanted to be like her mother. There were no ogres in Storybrooke, but there was Regina and even if it killed her Belle wouldn't leave Henry alone with the witch. How could she live with herself if she left a child alone like that?

She hugged Henry tight for a few minutes until he squirmed and she had to send him off to bed. He was still too excited by Emma's victory to be able to settle down, and she knew it would be awful waking him in the morning, but she needed some time to herself to think about what had happened that night.

Henry was right in that at some point, Regina was going to try to kill her. That was a fact. Honestly, Belle was amazed she'd gone this long living with the woman. Leaving her alive with her memories intact (even if she couldn't speak) was a risk that she was surprised Regina would take. There had to be an ulterior motive for it, and it bothered her that she wasn't sure what that was. She didn't think Regina had ever planned on Belle raising Henry, so that wasn't it, but she couldn't for the life of her determine what it might actually be that had kept her alive the last thirty years.

Belle hoped that Emma would be able to break the curse before Regina became too desperate. Otherwise there was no telling who would be the next to suffer Regina's wrath. Belle had a suspicion it would be her, but she would be brave. Henry was counting on her, and Belle wouldn't let him down. She would make her own mother proud.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tinuviel-undomiel said:  
> Mute Belle Prompt: the night of the big storm, Belle was out so winds up staying at the pawn shop with Mr. Gold until it passes.

He'd almost given up on her coming back. Or, more accurately, he'd pushed that thought away. Rumpelstiltskin tried his best to keep Belle at the forefront of his mind, but the fact remained that there were a million other things he had to focus on as well. He needed the curse broken to find his son, but to break the curse required a series of other small steps be completed in the shadows. In the grand scheme of things, finding Bae had to be his priority even over winning her back.

He'd finally stopped waiting for her, at least. There was a storm coming, and he was trying to prepare his shop for the tempest by covering the windows and moving things off the floor and onto pedestals in the event of flooding. The ringing of the bell on the door drew his attention, and it was on the tip of his tongue to inform this last minute customer that the shop was closed when he glanced up and the words died on his tongue. She was damp and she was shivering (and, he belatedly realized, he was too late to get home before the storm began) but she was _here_. Belle had come to him for shelter, and he'd not fail her here.

“I hadn't expected to see you so soon,” he admitted as calmly as he could manage which admittedly wasn't that calmly at all.

 _R-A-I-N-I-N-G,_ she signed slowly. _G-O-T-S-T-U-C-K. T-H-O-U-G-H-T-Y-O-U-M-I-G-H-T-L-I-K-E-M-O-R-E-L-E-S-S-O-N-S._

The mention of his abruptly aborted ASL lessons reminded him.

“I got you a present,” he said, ducking beneath the counter to grab it from where it had laid waiting for her the weeks she'd been angry. “To help with the lessons.”

By the time he stood again, she'd come to stand in front of him curiously as he placed the parcel in front of her.

“Go ahead and unwrap it,” he encouraged her. “It's not really much.”

She traced the string tying the brown paper together with a finger before pulling the bow undone. She carefully unwrapped it until she held the small whiteboard and shot him a curious look.

“I know you don't much like writing notes,” he explained (he'd thank Emma Swan later for that piece of information if this worked). “But you can erase this. And if you like it can stay here. I just want to be able to have a real conversation with you where we both talk.”

She didn't smile at him, but she also didn't hand it back. Instead she was holding the board gingerly with her fingertips, as though she were afraid of catching something should she properly grab it.

“If you don't want to, that's fine,” he stammered. “I don't want to make you uncomfortable. Here, I'll take it back...”

As he grabbed for it, she snatched it away, shaking her head no. She set the board on the counter and uncapped a marker.

 _No, it's fine,_ she wrote, a strange smile on her face. _It's a very good idea. Thank you._

He breathed a sigh of relief. He wanted to impress her, after all. He wanted her to be happy with him.

Delilah erased the writing on the board, uncapping her marker again.

_Would you like me to start_ _your_ _lessons again?_

“I very much would,” he said.

Usually, their lessons were her pointing to things in the shop and signing them – _clock, necklace, ring, sword_ – or else him saying words and her signing them – _man, woman, house, car, dog, cat_ – but having the whiteboard put her completely in control, and she surprised him.

The first thing she did was to hold her left hand flat with her right hand n a cup shape and resting on her palm where she mimed raising her hand to her lips.

_Cup._

He imitated her a few times until she thought he had it down, at which point she switched so her left hand was the cup and her right hand made a stirring motion over it.

_Tea._

He wasn't sure what was going on, no scratch that – he was pretty sure he knew _exactly_ what was going on but he couldn't let himself believe it. Her words became more and more fanciful – _fairy, castle, straw, forest, gold_ – before she moved her hands in a circle and made a throwing motion with both hands.

_Magic._

“Belle?” he whispered, his voice sounding as awe-struck as he felt. If she didn't understand he'd pretend like he was asking about the one on the door, but he _had_ to know.

He half expected her to tilt her head in confusion and ask him what he meant. Instead, she was nodding and smiling and there were tears in her eyes and _oh gods,_ she was Belle.

He didn't know how she got around the counter so fast, but he didn't care. _Belle_ was hugging him, and _Belle_ was pressing kisses to his lips and cheeks and jawline, and _Belle_ was filling his lungs with her scent. She wasn't angry, she didn't hate him, she was here and she'd come back and he was sure he'd never need anything else ever again.

She brushed her lips across his delicately and she pressed her body against his tight as though she were trying to melt into him. He wanted to be stronger than this, but he couldn't help his physical reaction. He hoped she didn't notice, but she did and he could tell the exact moment it happened. She stilled in his arms, but she didn't pull away or blush or any of the other things he would have feared – instead, she smiled at him again, a different kind of smile than before. This one was reassuring and lovely, and as she stretched up on her toes to press her lips to his again he was practically knocked backwards by the force of her acceptance and her love.

This time when she kissed him it was a slow, lingering thing. Whereas before she had been brushing lips across whatever body part she could reach, now his lower lip was between both of hers and her tongue was teasing his with its presence. She threaded one hand through his hair, her nails scraping pleasantly against his scalp and reminding him that this wasn't a dream, this was Belle here in the rain where nobody would come looking for them.

It was impossible to tell which one made the first move towards the back room, but since he didn't remember the idea coming to him he was sure it must have been Belle. It was Belle who pulled him down on top of her on the little cot, it was Belle whose arms were wrapped around him tight, it was Belle who loved him even as his hands trembled to cup her breast through her still damp shirt – dammit, he should have offered her his coat earlier. It was Belle who he would keep safe and warm and _here_ no matter what.

He slowly unbuttoned her shirt, willing himself to be steady as his hands worked. He could do this, he had done delicate work with his fingers since he was a boy, after all. She arched into his touch, his fingers touching skin that was so soft he could barely stand it. He wanted to jerk away and to run from this beautiful thing for fear of breaking it, but it was _Belle_ and he couldn't leave her again. Once he had her shirt off he covered her body with his, offering her warmth at least if he could do nothing else, and she seemed content with that for awhile, her legs finding their way around his to press her against him and her hands seeking skin wherever they could find it.

Eventually, though, Belle seemed to grow discontented with him fully clothed and her in a bra and she pushed his jacket from him and deposited it unceremoniously on the floor. He didn't know how far she meant to take this, but he knew how far he could go. Rumpelstiltskin hadn't been touched with kindness since she had kissed him last, and had barely been touched for any other purpose for another thirty years before that. There were some things that time didn't improve, and this was surely one of them. Instead, he slipped a hand down under her skirt, pulling it up to pool around her hips. Belle laid back as he traced his fingertips over her thighs, she looked so trusting and all he wanted was to win a moan from her lips though he knew he'd not be able to do that – nor to hear her call his name as she came.

He cupped her folds through the thin cotton panties she wore (pink with little flowers on them and beautiful in a way he couldn't have explained if anyone had asked) and pressed the heel of his palm against her apex where he knew she'd want him. She gasped, arching into him and her hand came up to fist his shirt. He smiled indulgently, leaning down to place a kiss to her temple as he continued his ministrations, not daring to slide his hands under the cotton jersey fabric until she was clawing the cot, panting heavily. He held his breath as his fingers slipped easily inside of her and her face twisted up into something resembling pain but oh so much more beautiful than that. He kissed her face and her neck as she panted and clawed at him and finally – _finally_ – shattered around his fingers as she clung to him for dear life.

He wished he could have heard her say his name, and he was painfully hard in his trousers, but Belle was wrapped around him and breathing heavy and had his hand trapped by her thighs and it was hard to think of anything but how beautiful that was and how he'd never expected it.

She finally released him, and he slid his hand out and tried to reposition her skirts. She gave him another of her quizzical looks, glancing down to his groin.

“Another time, sweetheart,” he promised, wiping his hand on the sheets quickly so as not to embarrass her before giving her a gentle kiss.

She tilted her head and made a single sign – one of the few he recognized – something close to a salute.

_Why?_

“We've only just met,” he said as charmingly as he could manage when all he really wanted was to wrap himself up in her and never let go.

She pointed to herself, then made a sign he didn't quite recognize (holding her hands in front of herself before pulling them back as though grabbing something) and then pointed towards him.

“Darling, I don't know that sign.”

 _W-A-N-T,_ she spelled before repeating her earlier movements. _I want you._

She wanted him, and he didn't want to turn her down, but at the same time his anxiety levels had skyrocketed just from being this close to her. He couldn't do this, he needed some time to adjust, needed time to come to accept this.

Belle – blessed, beautiful Belle – tilted his chin to look at her, trying to see in his face what he couldn't quite put into words yet.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered but she put her thumb over his lips, shaking her head with a gentle smile.

She pushed him onto his back and curled up against him (she fit so well between his arm and his side). He distracted himself by alternately weaving their fingers together and watching her toy with the buttons on his shirt.

She was here, they were together, and he would never let her go. He repeated those words like a mantra as the storm outside raged on and the lights flickered a few times. This time, he would keep her safe. No matter the risk, no matter the cost, Belle would be safe.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No one decides Belle's fate but her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one isn't really based on a prompt, it's just something I felt needed to happen between the prompts.
> 
> Sorry it's been so long, I've been working on a couple projects that are kind of secret. One is going live tonight or tomorrow and one is a Secret Santa project. I'll be updating more after the holiday though, promise.

Belle and Rumpelstiltskin spent the rest of the afternoon curled up under the covers, just touching and being touched. It didn't feel like that long before Belle's phone buzzed with a text message. She huffed, rolling to pick it up from where it had fallen to the floor when her skirt came off. She flipped it open to reveal a message from Regina: _where are you?_

Belle glanced sheepishly over to Rumpelstiltskin as she typed a response.

_Got caught in the storm. Be back as soon as it's safe._

_The storm ended half an hour ago_ , came the reply. _Be home NOW._

Alright, so maybe they had been together longer than she thought they had.

“You don't have to leave,” he said softly from his spot next to her. “You can stay with me, if you like.”

To emphasize his offer, he nuzzled her neck and brushed kisses along the tender parts of her throat. Belle leaned into him, savoring the softness and the affection. It was all she could do to shake her head no.

“Why not?” he sounded honestly confused. “I won't...we don't – it doesn't have to be like _this_. It could be like before, in the castle.”

She bit her lip. This was going to be hard to explain. She climbed out of the bed, picking his shirt up off the floor and wrapping it around herself before she dashed into the main part of the store to retrieve his present of the white board from where it had been abandoned on a counter. By the time she returned, he was leaning up on his elbows and watching her peculiarly, and it was all she could do not to climb back under the covers with him and accept his very generous offer. Did he even realize how much she wanted him? How much she wanted to lick his smooth chest and find out all the places that would make him gasp?

 _It's not like that,_ she scrawled on the board. _It's not about us, I just can't leave Henry. I have a responsibility._

She handed the board to him and he was silent as he read it.

“How is Henry your responsibility?”

_If I don't care for him, who will?_

“He's Regina's son,” he said dryly. “She could take a turn at it. You've raised him because she forced you to, but you don't have to do that anymore.”

 _Maybe I want to,_ she retorted. _I may not be his mother, but I raised him. If I don't protect him, who will?_

“Emma Swan,” he said reasonably. “Her entire purpose in life is to break the curse and she's his mother. She'll protect him.”

_Emma doesn't believe in the curse and doesn't believe Regina is dangerous. She's completely unprepared! She doesn't understand him like I do!_ _She killed_ _the Huntsman_ _, Rumple. Who knows what she'll do to Henry?_

“So you're willing to risk your life for this boy?” he finally blurted out angrily. “You're willing to die to stay with Henry Mills?”

_If that's what it takes._

And that was the crux of the issue, wasn't it? She was willing to die for Henry – she was damn near certain that's what was going to happen, actually. But she would die if that would give Henry his best chance. Belle didn't have children of her own, but she didn't see how you could raise a child from a baby and not love him like your own flesh and blood anyway.

“Belle,” murmured, his face crumbled at her words and he reached out a hand to brush her hair back from her face. “Brave Belle, beautiful Belle...”

Her phone dinged again and she glanced at it. It was another message from Regina insisting she return right away. Belle smiled apologetically, kissing his forehead softly.

 _I'll come back_ , she scrawled. _I promise._

Just for good measure, she formed the sign for _I love you_. She knew he didn't understand much of ASL, but she'd been right in thinking he might understand that one. He signed it back at her and watched as she carefully redressed herself, and he even fixed her hair for her in lieu of a brush. Gods, but she didn't want to go. Even as she snuck out the back door into the alley to avoid anyone seeing her leave from the street, she knew that she'd be much happier if she'd just said _yes_.

 

She was gone, that was all there really was to it. He fell back against the pillows on the rarely used cot and tried not to feel her loss too acutely. It was entirely possible that Emma Swan would break the curse any day now, after all – or that Regina would want to lay low rather than commit another convenient murder. He still didn't like Belle's odds of survival, though. Not in Regina's home, not even with Henry there. He wasn't sure he could bear to lose her again, after having just gotten her back.

He'd thought she was dead. So much lost time where she'd been...where? Apparently Regina had put her someplace, but who knew what had happened to her in the meantime? It occurred to him – perhaps a bit too late – that she could be working for Regina. She'd certainly spent long enough in the other woman's company, after all. And why else would she be left with her memories intact?

No, he couldn't believe that. He couldn't let himself believe that. Maybe it was foolish of him, and maybe he'd live to regret it, but he'd seen her break down at the mine. If there was one thing he knew about Belle, it was that she loved Henry Mills more than anything, and she was just brave and foolish and stubborn enough to try to die for him. If she was working for Regina, then he had no doubt in his mind that it was because she was trying to protect the boy.

He sighed into his hands, leveraging himself into a sitting position and straightening his clothes back out. He hadn't been thinking clearly when he offered her a place to stay, anyway. The longer he could go without Regina realizing he had his memories intact and was playing both sides against the middle the better. Allowing Belle to move in would have been just as good as putting on leather pants and taking up dealing for first borns on Main Street.

He wouldn't be opening the shop today. Not when it still smelled like her and her taste was on his lips and he could feel her in his hair and on his skin. Soon she'd be back, he promised himself. He'd restore her voice and bring her home with him and it would be beautiful. She loved Henry and she'd love Bae and they could be a family just like he'd always wanted. He was so close.

 

Belle hoped the flush she knew still stained her cheeks could be explained by the chill weather and the fact that her shirt was still a little soggy.

“Where have you _been?_ ” Regina shouted as soon soon as Belle walked through the door.

She didn't think she'd ever comprehend why Regina would take her voice, refuse to learn to communicate with her, and then continue asking her open ended questions like this. The woman was beyond unreasonable.

Belle shrugged and made a vague gesture towards town before signing the word _rain_. It was a simple enough sign to figure out the meaning of (holding both hands over her head and lowering them forcefully a few times), and Regina seemed to get enough of her meaning to huff and begin putting on her coat and shoes.

“I want you to stay with Henry,” Regina replied. “There was a strange man outside today and I don't want Henry out of your sight for one single moment until I know why he's so interested in my son.”

Belle's eyes went wide in shock and she turned back towards the door quickly as though she could see the strange man if she looked now.

“I have to go survey the damage from the storm,” Regina continued as she made her way out the door. “I'll be home late. And Delilah? I expect you to be home when you're supposed to be. Don't forget that.”

Belle gulped and nodded, watching Regina as she walked to her car. Apparently Belle didn't look anywhere near as different as she felt, then. Interesting.

She went upstairs to her room to change into something warm and dry, putting her hair into a loose braid before going to find Henry seated at the desk in his room and working on homework. She knocked and he smiled at the sight of her. She'd never not love that little boy, she decided.

_Your mother says you were talking to a stranger today?_

“He was parked outside the house,” Henry replied. “I stopped to ask him a question, that's it.”

_Why were you talking to him?_

“Because I've never met a stranger before,” he said earnestly. “Do you think it's because my mom is breaking the curse?”

 _I don't know,_ Belle answered. _But I do know it's dangerous to talk to strange men._

“You talked to strange men,” he replied. “That's how you met the dwarves.”

_That was very different, we were in the Enchanted Forest._ _And they were dwarves, not men._

“Storybrooke is a lot safer,” Henry pointed out. “Nobody ever tries to buy your baby here and I've never seen anyone turned into a monster.”

Belle glared at him, but Henry just smiled.

“I'll be alright,” Henry continued. “I have you and both my moms. Who'd even get close enough to hurt me?”

_Let's not find out, okay? Regina wants me to stay with you all the time now and I think she'll be watching._

“Where were you today, anyway?”

She paused for a moment. She should probably lie to him – she definitely didn't want to tell him what exactly she'd been up to – but she hated to lie to Henry. She liked to think she was an honest person, and Henry had enough liars in his life.

 _I went to see Rumpelstiltskin,_ she finally said. _He remembers who he is._

“That's great!” Henry exclaimed happily. “Are you going to go live with him now?”

 _No,_ she answered. _I'm not._

“Why not? Doesn't he want you back?”

 _He asked me to stay,_ she replied. _But I told him I wouldn't leave you._

“Please, Belle,” Henry whined. “You have to go back with him. I'll be okay here by myself, I promise.”

_What did I just say about things being more dangerous here than in the Enchanted Forest? I'm not going to leave you alone for a second, okay?_

Henry gave her the saddest look she'd ever seen, but he just nodded before flinging himself into her and hugging her tightly.

“Please, please, please be okay,” he whimpered. “I don't know what I'd do without you.”

And that, she decided, was precisely the reason she had to stay.

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Belle becomes determined to get her groove back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow so it's been awhile. Sorry about that, couldn't be helped. Blame Rumbelle Secret Santa and that 14,000 word Nostelle fic. Also Christmas and working in retail.
> 
> Anyway, I'm back and updating regularly again!

Rumpelstiltskin was fairly certain he should plan something for Valentine's day with Belle, the problem was he honestly wasn't  really  sure what that should be. He'd never had to do anything like this before. Even during the good times with Milah, he'd never had options for romantic evenings beyond a village fair and Cora had valued secrecy above romance. Belle hadn't been with him long enough in the Enchanted Forest  for anything like that to even come up, but here she'd spent twenty-eight Februarys completely alone and mourning for him of all people. 

As Mr. Gold, he had plenty of money wine and dine her,  and  Belle deserved everything he could possibly afford to give her. She deserved flowers and jewelry and all the experiences she'd always dreamed of.  And he wanted to  give her those things, except that this was still supposed to be a secret. Secrecy at this point was probably the only thing keeping Belle alive anymore –  although thankfully, that more applied to his behavior than hers. He rather suspected Regina thought it was funny that Belle had spent the better part of three decades wishing he would notice her, so as long as  the woman didn't get the idea that he had any particular fondness for 'Delilah' they were both fairly safe. It still put a  pretty big crimp in Valentine's day plans, though.

He'd been supposed to repossess her father's van today, but instead found himself with urgent business that must be attended to, advising Moe French to thank his lucky stars that this couldn't wait. Moe had breathed a sigh of relief and Rumple had used the same excuse on Regina when she'd tried to ask for a meeting with him. This urgent business had turned out to be locking himself in his back room for the rest of the afternoon with a book of sign language that he'd finally managed to track down in a church basement with a promise to that flighty nun of a rent extension should they need one. He hadn't exactly told Belle about it, but then that was half the surprise.

He had resigned himself to the fact that there wasn't much he could do for Belle while she remained steadfast in her determination to protect Henry Mills. He'd do whatever he could for her, but short of kidnapping her and locking her in his attic (and don't think he hadn't considered it) there wasn't much he could do. That didn't really help him with Valentine's plans, though. Aside from her push for _more_ the first day they'd realized they remembered, as far as he could tell her hobbies largely included kissing and reading. They were already doing plenty of kissing whenever possible and she now had free reign over any books he could acquire, which made this exceptionally difficult.

Flowers had been a no go, since her father was the florist and also there was absolutely no reason for Mr. Gold to be buying roses. He didn't think she'd be able to use any more jewelry until she was safely away from Regina. Lingerie seemed a little bit forward for the current state of their relationship. That really just left candy, and he'd gotten some of that, but it still didn't feel like enough somehow. Never enough.

As if on cue, he heard the door open admitting her into his shop. She was a breath of fresh air and sunlight, even though night was already upon them.

“No Henry Mills?” he asked her. She'd been forbidden from taking time away from Henry recently and the boy had tagged along on a handful of these secret dates. Luckily, the child was easily amused and incredibly happy for his nanny otherwise things could have gone very awkward. Belle practically skipped over to the counter where they kept her white board, pulling it out and scrawling a message for him.

 _Regina is home tonight,_ she explained. _Thinks I'm asleep early. He's covering for me._

“That sounds a little risky,” he replied. “What if she goes looking for you?”

 _She won't,_ she wrote. _If she needs me she sends Henry –_ _not sure she even knows which room is mine_ _. Anyway, you're worth it._

He couldn't help the smile he felt tugging the side of his face at her ready admission of enjoying him. Nobody had ever really enjoyed his company that he could remember – at least not without an ulterior motive. His son, maybe. Bae had loved him, at least, and that counted for something.

“I'll endeavor to live up to your expectations,” he promised. “Although I'm afraid my plans were slightly lackluster. I do have a few surprises, though.”

She cocked her head slightly, a coy smile playing across her face.

 _I have all night,_ she scribbled as nonchalantly as he'd ever seen a woman write something on a whiteboard. _Nobody will miss me until morning._

She looked so innocent when she wrote it he'd almost have missed her meaning if not for the fact it wasn't the first time she'd hinted at this. It was beyond comprehension that she'd want to have sex with him – especially after everything he'd done to her – but the fact that he kept turning her down was a special kind of madness. Truthfully, he wasn't even sure why he kept doing it. It wasn't that he didn't want her, because he'd wanted her as long as he could remember and more desperately than he'd ever wanted anything besides oxygen to keep pulling through his lungs. There was a part of him, though, that couldn't entirely believe she wanted _him_. She was Belle – beautiful, brave, so smart and kind and good. And he was Rumpelstiltskin. He was ancient and evil, corrupt beyond her ability to understand and just so tired and afraid. He was darkness and she was light, and he was mortally afraid of corrupting that within her.

So instead of taking her hint, he gave her a watery smile and moved to the back of the shop quickly. He'd been able to dig out a few things from their lives before that he thought she might appreciate at least seeing. It wasn't much, but they were the only things of hers he really had. When he brought out her little silver hand mirror and ivory comb (spared from destruction by being in her room and out of his sight), her chipped cup, and another couple books that had been in storage. She clapped her hands together as her eyes lit upon the assortment of once loved items, fingers tracing the face of her mirror and touching the teeth of her comb. The books got a loving pet, but the moment her eyes lit on the cup she gasped and scooped it up, cradling it to her chest.

 _You kept it?_ She somehow signed without putting down the teacup, forgetting in her excitement that she didn't know he'd been studying.

 _I wouldn't throw it out,_ he replied haltingly, but correct enough that she understood him.

He saw the moment she realized what he'd done, her jaw dropping open comically and he grabbed the cup out of her hands before she could let it fall to the floor.

 _You can sign?_ She still formed the words slowly, making sure he had plenty of time to see each one.

 _I've been practicing,_ he replied even slower than her. _I wanted to surprise you_.

She seemed to take pity on how very difficult this obviously was for him, flinging her arms around his neck and hugging him tightly. He lowered his face to her neck, breathing in the smell of her hair. Sometimes he wished he loved her a little less, but that was truly impossible. To not love Belle with everything he had in him for loving someone with was an impossible proposition.

She did finally pull away from him, though thankfully not too soon.

 _I didn't get you anything,_ she signed with a sheepish smile on her face.

“Your company is very much enough,” he replied, loving the little quirk of her lips when he understood her. “Anyway, there's always next year for a proper celebration.”

 _Next year?_ She signed. _That soon?_

“Well, yes,” he said. “Sometime before the summer, I should think.”

She had an odd look on her face, which prompted him to continue.

“Is there a problem with that?”

 _When the curse breaks_ , she signed slowly. _I'll have to leave Henry, won't I?_

“Oh, sweetheart,” he replied. “It won't be like that. You're welcome to stay with me, and your father is here. And it's entirely possible Regina won't be the one who ends up with custody of him anyway. You'll see each other plenty.”

_The longest he's ever been away from me was the night he went for Emma._

He wasn't sure what to say to that, particularly, but it called for him to say something.

“You two are very close,” he blurted out finally. And to think he spent three hundred years renowned for his ability to spin words.

 _I raised him, Rumple,_ she signed. _After you kicked me out I didn't think I'd ever get to love anything again. And then twenty years later I got Henry._

He flinched a little at her reminder of how he'd failed her. At the same time, gods above, if anyone could understand loving a child it was Rumpelstiltskin. He wanted to promise her that she'd always have Henry, but the boy wasn't his to give. Henry had two other women already claiming him as their own, and he would fight for Belle with everything he had but this was a battle he didn't think she could win. She seemed to read the content of his thoughts, turning to go examine the shelf of her books that he'd moved into the back room to prevent anyone else from touching them.

He didn't have the empty words to comfort her with – not this time – so instead, he settled for coming up behind her and settling his hands on her upper arms. Belle liked to be touched. She always had, he remembered, but being without her voice seemed to have lent her an even more tactile nature. She shivered a little as he trailed his fingers up and down her arms, and leaned back against his chest. He took her cue and wrapped his arms around her middle tightly.

“You'll still see him,” he promised. “If I have to string Regina up in the middle of town to get her to agree with it you will see him.”

She nodded, but he knew that didn't really help. It was hell to be separated from a child. It was a hell he was all too familiar with.

“I'd have spared you from this,” he whispered. “If I could have.”

She spun in his arms, then, and looked at him curiously. He didn't need her to sign to know what she wanted to know.

“Not from Henry,” he promised. “From the curse, from Regina. From myself, too, I suppose. From all the pain.”

She shook her head.

 _Not from you,_ she signed. _If I'd lost out on you what would I have left?_

“You'd be married,” he said as lightly as he could manage. “With babies of your own that no one could take from you.”

She wrinkled her nose at him.

 _Do you really think I wanted that?_ She looked almost angry, but also a little sad and he instantly regretted his words. _Do you think I wanted motherhood and_ _a marriage of convenience?_

“I don't,” he admitted. “But I can't imagine you spent your tender years dreaming of a man who was born long before even your great-grandfather, or an evil sorcerer.”

He couldn't look at her even as he was saying it, so it wasn't a surprise when he felt her hand on the side of his face pulling him to look back towards her. She had a look on her face he recognized – she wore it when she was thinking about chastising him but didn't quite have the heart.

 _I dreamed of true love,_ she replied simply. _In whatever form it would take._

He didn't have an answer for her, but she didn't press him for one. Rather, she stood on her tiptoes and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. He let himself be lost in her for a moment, let her overwhelm all his senses – touch and taste, vision and smell. He didn't need to hear her to know she was there, after all.

Her mouth was becoming more insistent, her hands roaming gently across his shoulders and chest, and her body pressed flush to his. It would be so easy to guide her back to the bed here and lay her in the sheets and lose himself in her body, so easy to forget their troubles for the time being and just be together. That was an indulgence he couldn't grant himself, though. He'd not ruin her when she was so very vulnerable. When she had her voice back, perhaps they could discuss it. But for now he was close to being her only friend. He had to know that he was her choice, not just her only option.

It hurt to push her away, but it would hurt more if he let it go too far. She had the same resigned look on her face she had every time he pushed her away, though, and that hurt worse. She turned away again and sat on the edge of the bed with a huff.

“Are you alright?”

She nodded, but he knew it was a lie, coming to sit next to her.

“Belle? You can tell me.”

 _You don't want me,_ she signed to him simply. _It's alright, I understand. I'm just disappointed is all._

Didn't want her? Oh gods, he had completely messed this up.

“I...it's not that,” he blurted out.

He had nothing else to say. Why had he started speaking?

 _It's not?_ Her hurt expression replaced by cautious optimism.

“Of course I want you,” he replied. “But it would be wrong.”

_Why would it be wrong?_

“Because it would be taking advantage,” he tried to explain. “You're lonely and alone and I'm...”

He gestured towards himself, willing her to understand. When she just looked at him he was forced to continue.

“You could do so much better.”

 _Shut up,_ she signed. _No one gets to tell me who I want. That includes you, Rumpelstiltskin. I'm alone, but I know what I want. I'm not an innocent because I'm inexperienced. I'm not vulnerable because I can't speak. I want you, not the person you think I should want._

He was left gaping at her outburst, at least partially because she signed faster when she was angry and that was the longest he'd ever tried to decode himself. He briefly wondered if it would be horribly inappropriate to take a video and ask Henry to translate before she was going off on him again.

_If the reason you've been pushing me away these weeks is because you think it would be taking advantage of me, then you need to tell me that now because I've been going insane trying to figure out what I'm doing wrong._

“No, it's not that.” It was completely that, but if he admitted it _now_ he was going to sound like a jackass. Well, a bigger jackass. “It's just...it's been a long time, Belle.”

_How long?_

“Longer than you've been alive,” he said with a little self-deprecating smile. “And longer still before that. I don't want to disappoint.”

 _Still better than me,_ she replied shyly. _You're it. Nobody else, ever. Even kissing._

He gulped at that and had to shut his eyes against the images she was giving him, but they flew open again at her hand on his thigh gently.

 _I won't push you,_ she signed. _But I do want you. Just you. No matter what you think about yourself, I do want you._

Oh, he was completely lost. Well, if he was damned anyway may as well go whole hog. He thrust his fingers into her hair and pulled her in for a hard kiss. He would give Belle anything she wanted, and if this was what she wanted he wouldn't disappoint her again.

%MCEPASTEBIN%


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle gets her happy ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Big big thank you to everyone who nominated this story in The Espenson Awards on Tumblr! It's up for Best AU!OUAT and Best Belle! And I'm up for Best Author, and a few of my other stories have been nominated for things as well so if you're so inclined maybe go check things out for potential voting? I'd be much obliged.

 He'd never kissed her like _this_ before, that was for sure. She'd been dreaming of this, and she wasn't afraid to admit it. She'd grown up on romantic stories which tended to cut straight from an earth-shaking kiss to a happy ending. The romance novels she'd lifted from a basket from the hospital were a bit more informative, but Belle had always been a curious sort and was desperate to get to what came next. He was still kissing her and he had his fingers in his hair as he began kissing his way down her throat. That was nice – very, _very_ nice. She bit her lip, letting him tilt her head back a little so he could kiss her more. She didn't miss her voice anymore, except for now. She wanted to tell him she liked it, that she enjoyed his touch and wanted more, but his eyes were closed and she didn't want to pull away to sign it to him.

She settled for putting her hands on his shoulders and rubbing him through his suit, hoping her message would come through. He seemed to take her meaning, at least. She wanted more, though – she wanted him to not stop this time.

She was careful as she moved her hands to the buttons of his coat, undoing them as though she were afraid of startling him. When she was done, she slid her hands under his jacket and let her fingers curl around his shoulders. He seemed to realize what was going on at that, pulling away from the spot on her neck he'd been working with his lips. She felt the loss instantly, and pulled him a little closer. He was always so gentle with her, so nervous as though she might break if he made any sudden movements.

She wasn't going to let him scurry like a scared rabbit this time, though. It was Valentine's day, and she had all night.

Belle leaned forward to reclaim his lips, loosening his tie in the brief moment where he was deciding whether to kiss her back. She didn't want to give him time to doubt that she wanted this, so she leaned forward, following him as he reclined on the cot.

“Belle,” he murmured, stroking her hair. “You're so beautiful.”

She smiled at him, wishing she could tell him how much she loved him and how thoughts of him had sustained her the entire time he'd been gone. She wanted to reassure him that she couldn't be scared off, that she'd come home to him eventually. But more than anything, though, she couldn't stop stroking his hair and his face. She'd been without touch for so long she couldn't stop now that he was hers for the touching, and he wouldn't really understand her anyway if she'd tried. So Belle dedicated herself instead to demonstrating to him whatever she could.

It only took a few moments before he began to reciprocate again, tracing the outline of her waist with his fingers and gripping her hip delicately.

“Belle,” he breathed. “Are you sure?”

She didn't answer him. Instead, she simply twirled his hair around her fingers. She liked it like this, she decided. She'd tell him later, when her hands weren't otherwise occupied, but she liked his hair like this. She'd liked the curls, too, but this was very nice. And so was his skin, she decided, as he pulled her hand to his lips and kissed it so gently she thought her heart might burst.

She leaned down again and pressed another kiss to his lips.

“Are you _sure?_ ” he whispered again.

She nodded, and he hooked his arm around her waist and pulled her tight.

“You'll tell me if you change your mind?”

She nodded again, and threaded her fingers through his hair, tugging just enough to draw his attention to her and he nodded, accepting her suggested signal – not that she had any intention of changing her mind, but if it gave him the confidence he needed to touch her then she would do whatever it took.

He rolled her over onto her back so he was hovering over her on his elbows. She smiled, feeling like a contented cat as he kissed her forehead, her eyelids, the apples of her cheeks, and down to her lips and then her chin. He slid his hands under her shirt and up to her breasts. She bit her lip, arching her back into his hand as he pulled the lace of her one nice bra down so he could run a thumb over her nipple and a bolt of electricity shot through her.

Rumple was watching her face intently, and she knew he was making sure she was enjoying herself, so she made a point of writhing underneath him and hoping he saw whatever it was he was looking for. His hand made its way down to her waist, and she wriggled out of her shirt. He licked his lips, moving his hand lower down her body to the zipper of her skirt. It didn't take him long to have her down to her bra and panties, cupping her through the soft cotton and pressing the heel of his palm into the apex of her sex. She squirmed, pressing herself further against him. He chuckled, slipping his hand under the fabric and dipping his fingers into her.

Belle had done this before herself, but something was different about it being Rumpelstiltskin's fingers inside of her, curling in ways that would have made her scream if she could and his thumb teasing her sensitive nub. He put his other hand on her torso, pushing down just a little bit and she saw stars. He was looking at her strangely, but she managed a smile and he continued what he was doing.

A man shouldn't be able to make his fingers do things like that, but she wasn't about to complain. He was magical, that was all there was to it. He didn't stop his ministrations, and it wasn't long before she was panting and squirming, and she half thought he might stop for fear of hurting her but he kept going. He followed her as she writhed, and suddenly she broke and she was curled around his hands and coming undone. He held her as the aftershocks shot through her, and she wasn't sure how long it took for her to come back to herself but when she did he was still there, and the moment she smiled at him it was like the weight of the world had come off of his shoulders.

She wouldn't let him go this time, though. They'd been through this before, and last time he'd brought her to this he had let her go after. She didn't want to go this time. Rather than letting him get away, she pulled him down over top of her and crushed her lips to his. He kissed her back, gently at first but then with everything he had and it wasn't enough this time. She frantically unbuttoned his shirt, needing to get to the skin underneath. He tensed up as she got fingers against bare flesh for the first time, but he didn't pull away so she clung tighter, her legs wrapping around him and pressing the bulge in his pants against her.

Once she had his shirt off, she could see the blush begin to creep across his face, but she was thrilled to finally look her fill. He was beautiful. She licked his throat to hopefully alleviate some of his nervousness, and that seemed to reassure him (or at least convince him to keep her face otherwise occupied) because he was kissing her again and not trying to stop her when her hands worked down to his zipper and maneuvered it open.

She had never touched a man before like this, and she was glad it had been him to be her first. He felt heavy and warm and she wanted him, _now._ Belle ground against him, guiding his hands back to her chest and he had his hand under her bra and his fingers were working miracles again. She managed to get his pants off. Thankfully, he didn't try to stop her. Instead, he worked her bra off and fell on her with lips and teeth and it was amazing. She shed her panties while he wasn't paying attention, and pressed herself closer to him.

She grabbed his hair at that point, pulling him back a second and there was the shock on his face as he prepared to stop. Instead of stopping him, though, she pulled his face up to meet hers and took his lip between her teeth. He was still hard and ready, and he made quick work of his boxers. He was hovering over her now as though unsure what to do. She moved her mouth to his throat, nipping and licking at a spot where she knew his collar would cover the mark she was leaving. He let out a low groan as she worked, and she felt his hand move downwards again, brushing his knuckles across her sex and readjusting himself.

“Are you sure?” he asked again, and she was so damn close to slapping him but that wouldn't solve anything.

So instead, she kissed him again. Long and lingering, letting him feel how she wanted him – she wanted him so much that sometimes it felt like an adventure and sometimes it felt like coming home. She wanted him so much is was physically painful to know he was nearby and that she wasn't touching him. So much she could scarcely believe it herself.

He made a choking noise low in his throat, and she felt him shift a little and suddenly he was inside of her. Belle gasped at the sensation. She'd imagined what this would feel like, but somehow nothing – not even his fingers – had prepared her for the feeling of fullness where she hadn't even been aware of feeling empty. He was looking at her quizzically, and belatedly she remembered the one thing she _had_ known about sex before this – the first time was supposed to hurt. He was worried about her, even as she could see the strain of not moving beginning to take its toll in the way his jaw was clenched.

She smiled, shaking her head and kissing him again and it felt like something in him must have broken at that, because then he was thrusting inside of her in long, deep strokes that seemed to reach all the way into her. It was like he was replacing parts of her with parts of himself, and she never ever wanted him to stop but he was going faster and faster and she could feel herself beginning to come undone again and then she was seeing stars and he was gone.

As she came back to herself, she was vaguely aware of a stickiness on her belly and looking down she realized he'd pulled out before he finished himself off. A part of her was relieved, she hadn't planned this well at all and becoming pregnant wasn't an option for either of them at the moment, but at the same time it surprised her to realize that she hadn't been as opposed to the idea as she probably should be. It wasn't the right time, but suddenly she was aware that maybe someday it would be.

He looked abashedly at the mess on her torso, grabbing up a cloth from someplace and cleaning her up before collapsing down into her arms. She wrapped her arms around him, cradling his head to her chest and brushing the hair back from the crown of his head as he traced little patterns on her stomach with his fingers.

Eventually, the chill air of the room seeped into her overheated skin and Belle shivered. Rumple pulled the blankets over them and curled up behind her, spooning her against his chest. She played with the fingers of his hand, forming the sign for _I love you_ with them. It was the best Valentine's Day Belle had ever had.


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle makes a stand and I am forced to write an entire chapter with no dialog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anonymousnerdgirl said:  
> SiG: Belle confronts Regina about Graham's murder (and rape) and the Curse with her notepad, Regina decides to use the notes as evidence to get her committed.
> 
> Anonymous said:  
> Not sure if this is a prompt for Mute!Belle, but I am curious what will happen to Belle when Regina realizes Rumple remembers.

Belle was pretty sure that Regina sometimes forgot that she hadn’t stolen her hearing, just her voice. That, or she just didn’t care what Belle heard. Maybe it had been too long since anyone had posed a real threat to the queen, or maybe Regina was just sloppy. Either way, Belle was now an accessory in a murder plot. Granted, she didn’t have a whole lot of choice in the matter but if there were a real legal system in Storybrooke, Belle wasn’t sure that any of the varying degrees of guilt here would matter to an actual judge.

Regina had gotten it into her head somehow to frame Snow White for murder. Which, in order to frame Snow White for the murder one had to be committed first. Thankfully, Regina hadn’t decided to force Belle to be the one to kidnap Princess Abigail (that was falling to Sidney Glass), but for some reason the queen had insisted on Belle acting as a sounding board about her kidnapping and murder plans. Belle had no doubts about the fact that, should Sidney complete his task, it would fall to her to clean up afterward.

Regina couldn’t be allowed to go through with this plan, but Belle wasn’t truly sure what to do about it. She could ask Rumpelstiltskin for help, but he was strangely reticent about helping her with these sorts of things. He was still trying to pretend that he was still Mr. Gold, regardless of Belle’s insistence that she needed his help. She would be in this alone, then, and she was going to do it her own way.

It had to be the last straw. Belle couldn’t go to the sheriff – Emma still regarded her with a mixture of suspicion and concern – which really just left her the one option. Regina didn’t know all of Belle’s secrets, although she thought she did, but Belle had dedicated a significant portion of her pre-Henry years to exploring. She had known of Regina’s crypt-vault long before it had come to Graham and Henry’s attention, and she (unlike anyone else in town) knew enough of Regina’s secrets to know that there was something hidden there. Regina never would have committed Graham’s murder if she didn’t have something she was afraid of him discovering, she’d been too attached to the Huntsman in her own sick way.

Regina was less attached to Belle, but she underestimated her. That was something Belle thought she might be able to use to her advantage as she left Henry at school with a wave and a promise that she would return promptly at three to collect him. Belle’s day wasn’t nearly as tightly controlled as Regina seemed to think it was. She certainly went along with the illusion of being overly busy with errands and chores because it suited her and created an alibi when one was required. By stockpiling a few minutes here or there and combining errands she usually did on different days (and with Henry’s assistance in completing things that absolutely could not be combined) she had managed to secure herself a free morning. Nobody expected her to be anywhere between leaving Henry at the school door and delivering Regina’s lunch at noon.

It was time for the contents of Regina’s vault to come to light.

Armed with a disposable camera that she’d purchased at the pharmacy a few weeks ago and whatever courage she could muster, Belle stood outside the crypt nervously. She suspected that Regina may have adjusted her security measures after nearly being caught, but without magic there shouldn’t be anything there Belle couldn’t overcome. She took a deep breath and snapped a picture of the crypt before approaching the door.

It was entirely likely that these photographs would outlive Belle and she had accepted that. Regina had too much to lose if this all came to light. Belle wouldn’t even risk having the film developed, instead she would hide the camera and tell a handful of people (Rumple, Henry, and Emma) where it could be found. She had to believe that at least one of them would do the right thing with it and make her sacrifice worthwhile.

Regina must have been convinced her previous deception was successful, because Belle saw no sign of any sort of security system on the door. That, or whatever she’d placed was more advanced than Belle knew how to spot. Either way, though, her choices were limited. She could either go in or stay outside. If she went in, there was a chance of being killed and if she stayed out there was a chance of being killed – frankly, neither option really appealed but given the choice at least this way she could be of some help in breaking the curse.

Well, Regina did apparently add at least one new security measure, Belle realized as she tried to push the door open – there was a lock. Belle smiled to herself as she examined it in the light of day. Things were finally starting to look up. One of the first things she had taught herself in Storybrooke – aside from how the oven worked – was how to pick locks. Her stint in Regina’s dungeon had been fresh in her memory and she was determined to not find herself in that position again. She had even managed to build up a decent enough lock picking kit through a combination of petty theft and ingenuity. She, of course, felt guilty for the tiny tools she had lifted from Geppetto and Rumpelstiltskin, but they were both in a position to replace them without drawing suspicion and she was not. She’d made it up to the tinkerer with a few kindnesses here and there over the years, mostly baked goods (after she’d mastered the new kitchen) but on occasion she had the opportunity to bring something of Regina’s in to be fixed and she always arranged it so that she overpaid him. Regina didn’t notice twenty dollars here or there, and Belle had more than repaid her debt since then. Mr. Gold had proved harder to steal from, but it was possible if you were invisible and most people seemed to find Belle completely invisible if there was anyone else in the room.

She crouched at the door, careful not to get any mud on her jeans, and opened the secret pocket she’d stitched into her purse to hold her stolen tools. It was a simple kit, but there was a screwdriver and a packet of bobby pins that had been in there since sometime in the early 90s, and that was really all she would need for this particular door.

The inside of the crypt was exactly what Belle had expected, a dusty tomb (she did hope that Regina’s father had found some sort of peace) and not much else but she snapped a photo anyway. There had to be a way inside the vault itself, although Belle couldn’t honestly figure what it would be. Subterfuge hadn’t ever been a skill of hers before, and it had been an adjustment to begin her life of sneaking around. She did know Regina, though. She had to think like Regina would if she was going to figure this out.

She spent the next hour carefully tracing damn near every inch of the place searching for a hidden catch that would reveal the secret chamber before coming back to the place she had started with a disappointed huff. Alright, time to think about this logically. Whatever Regina had hidden in here had to be below, didn’t it? There were no other buildings or rooms nearby, so either there was a false wall (and that didn’t strike Belle as being particularly likely, Regina would want her space) or there was something hidden beneath the crypt itself. The floors were made of the same stone that lined the walls, and an examination didn’t reveal any trapdoors. That really just left the one option, and Belle really hated it. Wherever the entrance was, it had to be underneath the tomb containing Regina’s father.

Belle had no desire to disturb the dead, but she had to find out what Regina was hiding and (with the marks left on the lock) this would be her only opportunity to do so. Screwing up her courage, Belle leaned against the tomb and shoved.

Nothing happened. The stone slab remained where it sat. Belle moved to another side – perhaps it was on a track? – and pushed again. The result remained the same. She was beginning to wear herself out. Her arms were burning with the exertion and sweat was beginning to bead on her forehead. She moved to the third side and leaned against the tomb to catch her breath, almost falling over as the tomb slid away under her body weight. Belle found herself staring down a staircase concealed inside.

Her heart was racing as she stepped back and took a few photos showing exactly where the staircase had been hidden. This was what she had been looking for all along – proof that Regina had something to hide.

She descended the stairs carefully, never quite able to shake the feeling of being watched. Regina cast a long shadow over Belle’s life, and here she seemed to have permeated the walls themselves. Finally, she set foot on the pressed dirt floor and was able to take in the room she had successfully broken into. The walls were lined with archways leading into various nooks, and there was a workbench in the middle of the room with some phials of indeterminate origin on them.

A nook to the side revealed a large ornate mirror, and Belle flinched away from it instinctively – she’d never really liked to look at mirrors since the day Rumpelstiltskin had thrown her out. Instead, she entered one of the archways at random and found a series of drawers. They looked like safety deposit boxes, she realized. Little brass safety deposit boxes with strange symbols on them. She took out her camera and clicked some photos before gingerly pulling on the handle of one of the shelves at random. Inside was a little chest, and Belle knew she definitely did not want to know what was inside of it but she if she didn’t open it then this entire little trip would be for no purpose at all.

Belle held her breath as she knelt on the floor and gently lifted the lid on the box. She promptly slammed the lid back shut once she saw the contents -- one glowing human heart. Belle didn’t know much about magic, but she could tell this heart had been infused with it. She dimly remembered Rumple teasing her about taking her heart out when they’d been living together, and she’d heard stories of a sorceress who could take your heart out and force her to do whatever she wanted. Perhaps those weren’t all jokes and scary stories to keep little girls in line.

She photographed the heart before replacing it and retrieving another one, finding the same thing inside. She photographed the two of them next to each other, not daring to take anymore out for fear of not being able to put them back in the correct place. She quickly restored the hearts to their proper locations and shut the drawers before moving to the next nook.

This nook had a series of cubby holes in it containing various trinkets that she couldn’t quite determine the purpose of, but knowing Regina they were important at one point in time. Belle snapped a few pictures for completeness’ sake before realizing there was a small box on one of the shelves. She opened it and found a few other odds and ends which she also photographed. There had to be something here that would help her, and she found it in another little box on a different shelf -- a small ring with a man’s face visible in it. This she slipped into her pocket for an extra bit of leverage before returning to the staircase and leaving without even a final look around. She had a lot of things to hide and not a lot of time to do it in.

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle's made a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a continuation of the last set of prompts, as is the next chapter.

Belle still wasn’t sure she was ready to confront Regina with the truth of her crimes. She wanted to, of course. She’d wanted to as long as she’d known the woman – the queen seemed to have a personal vendetta against happiness in all its forms (including, ironically, her own). Belle didn’t know what had happened to turn the woman into this but she had learned to pity Regina almost as much as she hated her. It didn’t stop her from doing whatever she could to undermine the other woman’s plans, but Belle had learned long ago that monsters were made by hurt.

Regardless of Belle’s curiosity as to Regina’s motivations for her evil, the queen had done things that Belle couldn’t forgive because it wasn’t her place to forgive them – and Regina was even now attempting to add to her own crimes. Belle was the only one who would stop her, or even knew to try.

She was waiting in Regina’s office when the queen-mayor arrived home, the little notebook Emma Swan had given her clutched in one hand and a pen in the other. She’d seated herself at Regina’s desk, hoping for to draw some strength from this position of power, even though she was so scared that her fingers were shaking and it took all her strength to hold the pen still enough to write with.

Do the brave thing, she reminded herself. Bravery had to follow.

To Regina’s credit, she only paused momentarily on noticing Belle before narrowing her eyes and seating herself opposite Belle in one of the armchairs.

“Well,” the queen cooed. “This should be interesting. To what do I owe this intrusion?”

Belle gritted her teeth before setting pen to paper and carefully writing out her first message. It had taken her hours to plan this, and she had been hoping to set Regina on edge by making her wait, but now she wished she’d just been prepared with a letter. This was going to be torture.

_I know what you did to Graham._

Belle tore out the sheet of paper before sliding it across the table. Regina read it calmly, a smile quirking the edge of her mouth.

“And what, exactly, did I do to the sheriff?”

_You raped him, and when he tried to escape you murdered him._

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Regina scoffed. “Sheriff Humbert died in front of Emma Swan. I was nowhere near either when it happened. As for your other allegation, I won’t even dignify that with a response.”

_I can prove it. I’ve been to your vault._

This was Belle’s trump card. Regina so far seemed to think that she was being recorded, otherwise she had no reason at all to lie to Belle. This note, however, had finally cracked Regina’s polished façade. Belle could see the queen’s mind working as she tried to determine what Belle could have found there, and how she could talk her way out of this one.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

So lying it would be, apparently.

_I took pictures. And your ring._

Regina’s face paled, and she was now staring at Belle with an anger that so far she’d only ever seen directed towards Emma Swan, and having the full force of the evil queen’s fury inches away from her suddenly robbed Belle of whatever courage she’d summoned, leaving her wondering if perhaps this hadn’t been such a good idea after all.

“What did you do with that ring?” Regina said in a low voice that had Belle on the verge of bolting out of the room.

_It’s safe. I hid it with the pictures someplace where you’ll never find them. As long as I’m okay so is the ring. I’ve told the location to a few other people, and as long as nothing happens to me none of them will check my hiding place._

She was only half-bluffing. She’d dropped a note through the mail slot of Rumple’s house on her way back from the cemetery advising him that she wasn’t entirely sure she’d survive the day, but if he never saw her again to please make use of the camera and trinkets she’d stuffed into a manila envelope and hidden in the library. She told him that he’d find it in the section related to the item he had collected from the thief who had stolen his wand. She hoped that was enough information, and also that Regina really didn’t know he was awake yet or else this would prove to be a fairly simple scavenger hunt for Regina and a spectacularly stupid idea for Belle.

“Tell me where it is,” Regina replied evenly. “And I might even let you say goodbye to Henry before I rip your heart out.”

 _You don’t have magic here,_ Belle scribbled quickly. This was escalating faster than she’d expected and not at all in the way she’d thought it would. The ring that had been an afterthought to Belle seemed to be a fixation to Regina. _You can’t rip out a heart without magic_.

“Then I will carve it from your chest,” Regina shouted, rising up to loom over the table at her. “And you’ll never see Henry or your father or your precious Rumplestiltskin ever again!”

_Rumplestiltskin knows I’m here. If I disappear he’ll look for me and you know it._

“Rumplestiltskin kicked you out,” Regina yelled. “He doesn’t care if you’re alive or dead.”

_That’s not true. He loves me._

Regina balled the last note up and threw it across the room and Belle had only a moment to prepare before the queen grabbed for her.

Belle leapt to her feet, knocking the chair over and moving as far away from Regina as she could. The queen stood between her and the door, but Belle had no choice but to try to run. Regina was still regaining her balance from her failed attempt at capture, and if Belle was going to have a chance at escape it was now. She made it out into the living room and almost to the door before the queen tackled her from behind and pinned her to the carpet. Belle struggled, but Regina was stronger and apparently more experienced in this sort of thing – or at least more desperate to regain her lost property than Belle was to save her own life. Still, Belle would make her work for it.

In the end, it took Regina the better part of half an hour to force Belle down into the basement, and cost her a nasty scratch across the cheek from Belle’s fingernails. The basement locked from the outside and the only window was too small to climb out of. Belle felt her panic begin to rise as she realized she was trapped in yet another dungeon. Death she had been prepared for, captivity not so much.

Belle would have screamed if the option was available to her, but instead she flung herself at the door until her body gave out and she simply didn’t have the strength left to keep fighting and she curled up at the base of the door and cried.

  


Rumplestiltskin wasn’t entirely sure what he’d done to deserve Regina’s company when she walked in the door of the pawn shop, but her cold demeanor and the steely look in her eyes (offset nicely by a set of scratch marks on her cheek and a slightly swollen lip) told him this wasn’t a social call.

“Madam Mayor,” he said as calmly as he could. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Have you been talking to my maid?” Regina said sharply, slamming a handful of notebook paper down on the counter.

“I don’t think your maid has been talking to anyone,” he replied. “Least of all me.”

“The girl has gotten it into her head that I murdered the sheriff,” Regina replied. “I think the poor thing has finally snapped from the isolation. She attacked me!”

He felt the back of his neck prickle from the danger he knew they were both in now as he glanced down at the papers on the counter. He recognized Belle’s handwriting and saw the words ‘murder’ and ‘Rumplestiltskin’ in the stack and he felt his stomach sink like lead. What the hell had Belle gotten herself into?

“And why would you think that has anything to do with me?” he snapped. “Unless she named me in these notes, that is.”

“I know she comes here for hours at a time,” Regina replied. “And she went to get you at the mineshaft. I know you’re friendly with her, and I have to ask myself why. Why would you be spending so much time with a poor mute girl? Unless, of course, there’s something else going on I should know about.”

“My clientele is none of your concern.”

“She’s hardly clientele, Gold,” Regina said. “She can’t afford a damn thing in here and we both know it. So unless she’s paying you in trade…”

He was gripping the edge of the counter hard enough that he was afraid he might break the glass, but he could feel his fingers wanting to twitch when they couldn’t, because he needed to be completely unaffected by what Regina was telling him when all he wanted to do was strangle her and go find Belle. Not yet, though. He didn’t know where she was and until then he needed Regina. But only until then, and not a second longer.

“So what exactly do you have planned?” he said, proud of how steady he’d kept his voice as he asked. “And why tell me this?”

Regina was glaring at him harshly and he knew she was angry he’d not fallen into her trap yet and revealed himself. He also knew it was only a matter of time before he did.

“There’s an asylum in town,” she replied. “A place for people who can’t handle polite society for a little while. They’re far more equipped to deal with her than I am.”

“So you’ve locked her away, then?”

“She’ll be there in the morning,” Regina said as casually as if they were discussing the weather. “As soon as the doctors can come collect her.”

So he had time, then. She wasn’t lost yet and he could still save her from this fate, he just had to get Regina to leave so he could put his plan into motion.

“I imagine Henry will be distraught at losing his nanny,” Rumplestiltskin said at last. “Where is the boy, by the way?”

“Henry is in school,” Regina said sharply.

“It’s half-past four,” he replied. “And with your nanny locked up my guess would be he’s with his birth mother.”

Regina looked up at the clock quickly and he was relieved at the shock that he saw on her face. Belle hadn’t been lying about having raised the child alone, had she?

“That isn’t any of your business,” Regina replied darkly, turning and stalking out of the shop, forgetting her papers on the counter.

He didn’t waste any time once Regina was out of sight, grabbing the shop phone and dialing a number he’d committed to memory.

“Sheriff Swan?” he said into the receiver. “It’s Mr. Gold. About that favor you owe me…”

  


As far as plans went, this one wasn’t too bad. The Sheriff had only needed a little cajoling to be talked into waylaying the mayor, and once Henry had heard that Belle was in trouble the boy had rushed home to meet the man he’d known as Mr. Gold on the sidewalk.

“Are you sure my mom has her inside?” Henry asked, unlocking the door and letting both in.

“It’s my only guess,” Rumplestiltskin admitted. “I don’t know where else she’d have left her.”

“If she’s here,” Henry said thoughtfully, taking in the knocked over lamps and other signs of a struggle. “Then she has to be somewhere my mom thinks she can’t get away.”

“Are there any doors here that lock from the outside?”

“Just the basement,” Henry said with a strange combination of relief and horror on his face as he took off towards the kitchen. “Belle hates it down there, she says it reminds her of a dungeon.”

Henry slammed open the door to what turned out to be a laundry room and turned towards a small door painted to match the wall.

“Belle?” Henry called through the door, yanking the handle hard despite the lock. “Are you in there? We’re coming for you!”

There was a pounding on the door in reply, and Rumpelstiltskin breathed a sigh of relief.

“Where’s the key?” he asked Henry.

“My mom has it!” Henry exclaimed. “There’s only one.”

Henry was still yanking on the handle and Belle was still hitting it hard enough that Rumplestiltskin suspected she must have been throwing herself against the door, but still it held firm. Henry was becoming panic stricken and he could only imagine the terror Belle was feeling right now and he’d come so far for this woman and he couldn’t be stalled at the last minute by a door.

“What the hell is going on here?” Regina’s voice rang through the room and Rumplestiltskin cursed silently – he had run out of time.

Henry plastered himself against the basement door protectively and the banging from Belle quieted to a thumping of hands against wood.

“Henry Daniel Mills,” Regina demanded. “You come away from that door right now.”

“I’m not going to let you lock her up,” Henry exclaimed. “You know why she hates it.”

“That woman is dangerous,” Regina replied, reaching for Henry who darted behind Rumplestiltskin. “I’m not going to let her keep filling your head with these lies about me!”

“They’re not lies!” Henry was near to sobbing now. “You’re the liar!”

Regina made a frustrated noise before turning her attention back to Rumplestiltskin, who was currently as much Mr. Gold as it was possible to be.

“Is this really a battle you want to have with your son?” he interrupted. “About locking the nanny in the basement?”

“This is none of your concern, Gold,” Regina snarled. “And you should never have brought him into this.”

“Be that as it may,” he replied. “We have other things to discuss, Regina.”

“Do we?” she said suspiciously. “And what might that be?”

“Something I think you’d like to discuss away from your son,” he said. “Unless, of course, you want him to hear what I have to say?”

Regina nodded and began to walk away.

“Let her out first,” he called after the queen. “You and I both know that whatever happens next she won’t be staying in that basement.”

Regina looked conflicted, but she finally gave a curt nod and unlocked the door, letting Belle spill out into the room. She glanced around like a hunted animal before her gaze settled on Henry and she grabbed the boy and shoved him behind her.

“Cut the theatrics,” Regina scoffed. “I’m not going to hurt him and we both know it.”

Belle gave Regina a look that said she knew no such thing, but Regina just rolled her eyes and walked away with Rumplestiltskin following close behind. After twenty-eight years, the Dark One and the Evil Queen would be dealing again at last.

 


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The curse breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it, guys.

“So,” Regina said, pouring herself a drink and settling on one of the sofas in her office. “How long have you been awake?”

Rumpelstiltskin watched her for a moment. This was a secret he’d wanted to keep for his own as long as he could, to play both Regina and Emma against each other until the curse broke. He still didn't know how that would happen, he just knew it was getting close to happening and he was so scared of doing anything to interfere with that. Bae was so damn close he could feel it, but Belle would die if he did nothing. He'd almost lost her once before, he couldn't lose her again.

"A little while now," he replied at last. "You can't have thought I wouldn't build in some safety for myself."

"That was supposed to have been your pleases," She said with a snarl on her lips. "I gave you what you asked for and you betrayed me."

"Betrayal implies we were ever on the same side," he reminded her. "You were only ever a means to an end, and while we're on the subject I can't help but notice my maid isn't quite as dead as I was led to believe."

She sat back and gave him a self-satisfied smile at that.

"I couldn't have you getting distracted," She said coolly. "Not when we were so close."

He could have throttled her at that, but he wouldn't. Not yet, anyway. He still needed Emma to discover the truth and if he killed Regina right now she'd just take Henry and run. Regina was useful just this little while longer.

"We seem to have crossed that bridge now," he shot back. "So I'll be collecting my employee and leaving."

"Employee?" Regina snorted. "Really, Rumple, after all this you're still going to pretend like she's not valuable to you? The question is, what is she worth?"

He felt rage beginning to bubble up in him, and it was all he could do to contain it.

"Don't misunderstand me," he replied. "Belle is leaving with me. The only thing up for debate right now is whether I let her provide the Sheriff with whatever evidence she's collected on you."

Regina froze. Not for long, she was too good for that, but he had known her a long time. He knew he had her.

 

Belle was still a little shellshocked, sitting on the sofa with Henry curled up halfway in her lap with his head cradled to her chest. He hadn't been this clingy in years, but she was just so relieved to see him again she only hugged him tighter.

"You have to leave with him," Henry murmured. "Please, Belle. You'll be safe."

She shook her head softly, signing would have meant releasing him and she couldn't let herself do that yet.

"She won't hurt me," Henry promised her. "Emma won't let her."

She did unwind herself from him enough to sign this time, needing him to understand.

 _Not all hurts are physical,_ she reminded him.

"It won't hurt me less to see you die," he replied.

Belle didn't have an answer for that, because she knew he was right. She didn't want to die, but she didn't know how to live with herself if she left him either.

She was still mulling it over when the door to Regina's office swung open and Rumple emerged with Regina behind him.

"Henry," Regina commanded. "Come here."

Nobody paid any attention to Regina, though. Henry remained right where he was as Rumpelstiltskin came over to them both and leaned down.

"Is there anything in your room you can’t live without?” he whispered so that only she and Henry could hear. “Don’t worry about your clothes, we can replace that. Anything of sentimental value?”

She thought for a moment. Her necklace from Henry was around her neck and she hadn’t acquired much since she’d been here.

 _I have a book upstairs_ , she signed after a minute.

“I’ll get it for her,” Henry said quickly, sliding off the sofa and rushing up the stairs.

“It’s going to be okay,” Rumpelstiltskin reassured her, pulling her to her feet. “You’re just going to have to trust me, darling.”

Belle nodded, letting him guide her hand into the crook of his arm as they waited for Henry to return. She heard him bounding down the stairs after only a few minutes, carrying her book as well as a small box she recognized as his box of treasures. It held ticket stubs to movies, a cicada shell he’d found when he was five, and a four leaf clover she’d pressed for him years ago. She felt tears already beginning to well up in her eyes as he handed it to her, wrapping his arms around her waist and hugging her tight.

 _I’ll miss you_ , he signed to her

 _I’ll miss you too_ , she replied. _Stay safe. I love you._

_I love you too._

And then Rumple’s hand was on the small of her back and he was leading her out of what had been her home. From danger to safety, leaving behind everything she’d known for the last twenty-eight years.

 

Belle was so small, and when Rumpelstiltskin finally ushered her into his home -- their home, he mentally corrected himself -- he remembered so vividly the last time he’d brought her with him that for a moment all he wanted to do was wrap himself up around her and reassure himself that she was here and she was safe for as long as possible, for as long as it took to believe it. She was really here, she was really safe.

“We’ll get you settled,” he said, more to hear himself speak than because he thought she needed the reassurance. “And then we’ll go see what we can’t do about getting you some clothes.”

She nodded, but didn’t seem to want to release the things Henry had brought her in order to reply to him. She was still so shaken up.

“Let me show you your room,” he continued, touching her elbow to guide her up the stairs.

She followed him as he directed her towards one of spare bedrooms that was all light colored wood and rose colored sheets. It had reminded him of her the moment he’d woken up and he’d spent the time since then carefully adding in whatever he could to make it feel more like a place Belle would want to be.

He’d never entirely believed she’d ever stay here.

He watched as she set her book and the box on the vanity, standing for a long moment with her back to him. When she looked up, he saw her tear stained face reflect at him in the mirror. He dashed towards her as fast as he could, wrapping his arms around her as she turned to bury her face in his neck. He stroked her hair as she sobbed. He didn’t know how long they stood there before she eventually pulled him down onto the bed with her. She curled around him, letting him hold her as tightly as possible.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered at last. “I’m the one who brought you into this.”

 _You saved me,_ she signed to him. _How did you know I was in trouble?_

“Regina,” he admitted. “She suspected that I remembered, so she used you to blackmail me into admitting it.”

She squeezed him a little bit apologetically, and he suddenly had to elaborate.

“It wasn’t the end of the world,” he continued. “The curse will be broken soon regardless. She can only hold out so long, and Miss Swan will know soon enough. You have my word.”

_And then Henry will be with Emma?_

“That’s really up to Emma,” he reassured her. “But he’ll be safe. That was one of my conditions with Regina.”

_So he’ll be okay?_

“He’ll be fine,” he replied. “I wouldn’t let anything happen to you, Belle. And if you need Henry to be happy then Henry will be safe and happy.”

She didn’t reply, instead craning upwards to kiss him softly. He’d protect her forever, if he had to. And Henry to if it came down to it. Whatever it took to make Belle happy. Soon, he’d have Baelfire back as well. He’d tell Belle everything and she would love the boy just as she loved Henry.

For the first time in centuries, Rumpelstiltskin let himself feel hope that everything would be alright.

 

**Two months later…**

He’d promised that Henry would be okay, and now she was sitting by his hospital bed while Snow White read him a story. He was supposed to be helping Regina and Emma get something that would help save him, and she had to have faith. When the monitors started going crazy, beeping and Snow White was screaming for help. Everything was happening so fast, and Belle was being shuffled to the side along with the princess.

She watched from the arms of Snow White as the boy she’d raised as her own child was declared legally dead. She’d never hurt so much in her life. It felt like a gaping hole in her heart that she couldn’t fill. She knew the loss of Baelfire had driven Rumpelstiltskin through the last three hundred years, but it wasn’t until that second that she really understood why he’d done it. Henry was so small in the hospital bed, and so very pale.

Nobody tried to make her leave, thank the gods. She went back to being invisible Belle, sitting next to his bed and stroking his hair back from his face. His hair was always in his face, and he could use a haircut. Could have used a haircut. He was gone now, what did it really matter anymore?

The doctor and the nurses stayed away, giving her room to grieve. She shouldn’t have ever left him alone, she shouldn’t have trusted Regina not to cause him harm. Belle barely bothered to look up when Regina and Emma entered the room. She hated the Queen so much in that moment that if Emma had turned and stabbed her in the chest, Belle would have sworn it was a random stranger. But Belle couldn’t have left Henry’s side if she’d wanted to. She’d been with him for most of his eleven years of life, she would stay with him just this little bit longer. He had been son and ward and best friend and protector, and she had left him once before. She wouldn’t do it again.

She had her head bowed over Henry’s hand, and she could sense Emma coming towards them, but she was too preoccupied with her silent vigil to care. It wasn’t until Henry’s body jerked and he gasped awake.

True Love’s Kiss could break any curse. It had been Regina who told her that, and now it was Regina who was being surrounded by her victims having fallen victim to the same thing she had tried to destroy Belle with. The irony was staggering, but Henry was alive and that was all that Belle could focus on.

An hour later, when the wave of magic rolled through town Belle knew that Rumpelstiltskin had been behind it. When he arrived at the hospital not long after and stood in the door with a smile on his face, she knew then that they would be alright. She would help him find his son, and they could start to forge a new family together.

“Is your voice back?” Henry asked her, breaking her out of her trance.

Rumple and Emma both seemed interested in this, he coming closer and her watching curiously as Belle tried to remember what it felt like to make a noise. She tried unsuccessfully to make a few different noises before finally shaking her head.

 _I lost my voice before the curse,_ she explained. _I suppose Regina still has it unless she did something with it._

“We’ll figure it out,” Rumple promised her. “If I have to skin her alive I’ll get it back for you.”

Belle glanced over at Henry quickly, putting her hand on Rumple’s arm to still his rage.

 _I don’t need my voice_ , she quickly reassured him. _I have a family now. Everything I need is right here._

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The end.
> 
> I know a lot of people are going to be disappointed that Belle doesn't get her voice back. I put a lot of thought into this and what I basically decided was that while in the context of this story it does make sense for her to get her voice back the story doesn't exist in a vacuum.
> 
> There's a trope in stories about disabled people where the happy ending involves the disability being removed. I didn't want to write yet another story where the disabled person becomes able bodied and they all live happily ever after.
> 
> If there is any career path that lends itself well to a person who can't speak, it's small town librarian whose wealthy husband is head over heels in love with her. Her problem was never not being able to speak, it was that people were ignoring her. That's not fixed by getting your voice back, it's fixed by the people around you not being toolboxes.
> 
> Anyway, if you think for one goddamn second that Neal doesn't learn to communicate with her the second he finds out she raised his son then you have another thing coming.


End file.
